The Child of Germany
by MKG
Summary: Germany is saddled with more than restitution and recession as well as Italy but now has been granted custody of a sickly child that will test his and Italy's strength. But why did Prussia go to Germany's boss just to get this kid into Germany's hands?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**- _I do not own Hetalia, no matter how much I may dream._

**Note**- _English is not my first language so grammar may be weird. _

**update- this chapter has been altered from the original form very recently. it's just touching up some grammar and imagery issues. I will be sprucing up other chapters as well.**_  
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Germany's eye twitched as he looked across at his desk at Prussia. Had his brother not shown written proof, not been straight faced, and brought no entourage Germany would've sworn the whole thing was a joke. But the signatures were there, papers official, nothing could be done. Nodding and excepting the orders given to him Germany sighed. His blue eyes cast down as he ran his hand through his neatly combed locks. Prussia cocked an eye brow, his hair was, for once, very well styled, his uniform less war like and far more formal. The afternoon was a mild temperature that had taunted Germany to work outside. The moment his brother pulled up, that hope was stomped on.

"Oh, West, you will be fine." Prussia assured,

"I know nothing about this... Why would they entrust him with me?" Germany asked, Prussia chuckled,

"Questioning your superiors? Aren't you bold. Well, if they didn't think you could do it, I am sure they wouldn't have risked it... Which is why they are taking him from me and giving him to you." Prussia said, "I'll be by tomorrow to drop him off, until then I suggest getting a spare room prepared." Prussia stood and pushed in his chair. His amber eyes focused on his brother, narrowing.

"Brother, although I believe you can handle this no problem... I warn you, remember to deal with this like business... Don't get too attached to your work." He spoke in a low voice. Germany just nodded and sat deep in his seat. His hand over his face, Prussia could tell from the taunt skin his eyebrows to knitting in frustration. With a reassuring pat on the shoulder Prussia excused himself. Pushing the door with his arm, a loud thump slammed into it.

"Oooow," Prussia rolled his eyes, the voice unmistakable.

"Eavesdropping isn't wise Italy..." Prussia said as he opened the door a bit gentler.

"But I..." Italy was cut off by the Prussian's proud declaration,

"Now that you've tried to get classified information I will have to punish you! Why don't you come to my place and-"

"East!" Germany roared,

"Relax Ludwig, I'm only playing... I'll be back later this evening, until then try to calm yourself. You'll turn grey early if you keep up this mood." Prussia said slipping out. Italy crept into the office while Germany's face occupied his palm. Rubbing his eyes, Germany frowned.

"What is wrong Germany?" He asked,

"We are having a guest... For a long time, and I am not sure I can care for him while doing so many other tasks." Germany said,

"Well, I can help out! Your guests every need will be met I promise!" Italy announced.

"I appreciate the offer, but its a bit complicated." Germany said looking down at the sheet of paper.

"What is wrong?" Italy asked,

"The guest is a child," Germany said,

"Oh! A child! That means a new country! Awww I bet it's cute, whats its name? Where -"

"Italy!" Germany interrupted, "It's not a country... It's just a child. But he is very sick and was entrusted to me by my superiors, so I must do a good job with him."

"Aw, what is he sick with Germany?"

"I-I... I am not sure... East is going to inform me of his condition when he dropped the boy off this evening."

"We have to go get kid's things! Toys, and beds, and-"

"Italy!" Germany interrupted, We can make most of that stuff... I don't have the money to support a kid right now... Restitution, Reconstructions, the list goes on." Germany mumbled,

"Well, we better get to making a bed then, perhaps a toy or something to occupy his time." Italy said. Looking to the stack of papers on his desk, Germany let out a disgruntled moan.

_I have no life already, how on earth can this be done?_ Regaining his composure, Germany looked Italy straight in the eyes.

"Italy... I need your help with this, I will be too busy to properly supervise this boy so I need you to watch him. I am counting on you Italy." Germany's eyes softened, Italy smiled back.

"You worry too much,"

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"This is looking more like a death trap than a bed frame, Italy," Germany said. Italy shrugged with a smile.

"Well, how heavy could a child be?" He said, "Uh, Germany... We need a mattress, do we not?" Germany closed his eyes, sorting through his possessions mentally.

"There is one in the attic I can work on... In the meantime, try and make this a little more... Sturdier?" Germany asked, he twitched as he looked at the wobbly frame. His mind playing a million scenarios in his head. The injuries, the scolding he would receive from his superiors, and the sudden trip to the hospital.

"Brother, welcome... Where is this boy?" Prussia stood in the door with his arms folded. Behind him was a car with a driver leaning against the side huffing a cigar. His brother's eyes lost their confidence, almost looking afraid.

"We will get to that... But, I have to fill you in on him without his presence." Prussia explained. Inviting him in, Prussia hung his coat and seated himself in the living room. Italy, who was lounging with a book, looked up and greeted him. Germany sat in the center, the fireplace in front of him roaring. To his right was Prussia, left Italy.

"Germany, this boy is... Very sick. He is very fragile. And to be honest, unless some country wants to be generous, his medical care is impossible. The very least we can do now is let him be in a the clean country air. You can not catch what he has, so do not fret about getting ill yourself. He is six years old but already has severe mental trauma. Honestly, he isn't hard to please. He will entertain himself most of the time, eats anything on his plate, sleeps alright, and bathes. He is just very silent. Obedient as can be, he isn't going to be trouble.

"He does however tend to get nightmares, he will cling suddenly if he is afraid. Don't attempt to help at bath time, he will scream...Loud. He needs his heart rate checked daily and the medicines in his bag. Don't try and hug him or anything, Italy, and respect his space." Prussia finished and sat back in the chair.

"Brother, why is he like this?" Germany asked,

"Well... Without getting into specifics... He was severely abused. He ran off and was found on the street where he was re-homed with someone in our family. They couldn't keep him, so I offered, but under my boss I was order to find yet another home. After consulting with your superiors, they agreed that this child would not require too much extra care. Something about him struck your boss, who insisted you care for the boy." Germany and Italy were silent. Though his face was firm, Germany struggled to hide is disgust. Italy let his emotions flare at the words of abuse and prodded for more information but Prussia merely stayed unusually distant.

"It's all in his file, but I don't recommend reading it all unless you want to cry..." Prussia said, his admission caught Germany off guard.

"East..." He trailed,

"Well, might as well bring him in, right?" Prussia said getting up. Opening the door he ordered the driver to bring the boy in.

Dressed in peasant clothes the boy wore a plain white shirt and brown cloth pants. Thin, to an unhealthy degree, he shivered as he hid behind Prussia. Kneeling, Prussia ruffled the boy's blond hair and smiled.

"This is my brother and his friend. They will take good care of you," He whispered. The boy opened his eyes and stared at Germany.

Germany, for all his ability to mask his reactions, stiffened. Italy struggled to vocalize something. Prussia noticed their reactions and stood.

"Is he... Blind?" Italy asked,

"No," Prussia said looking down at the boy, "That is their natural color... A bit unsettling in beauty but he can see fine." Germany regained his composure. The boy's eyes still locked on him.

Beautiful they were, but there was no color. It was as if is eyes were water in a glass, colorless, and reflected what was around him. A tinge of what may have been blue, or green, was in them but it was most likely from Prussia or Germany's outfit. His face was very refined and gentle. His resemblence to the family was certain by his perfect triangular nose and large wide eyes. The child's hair was thick and fell in a pattern similar to Germany's, when not combed back. Proportionally, the boy had long limbs but was still too small for a child of six.

"Welcome," Germany said extending his hand. Shying away the boy curled up tighter to Prussia.

"Leos, come now, if anything my brother is nicer than I." The boy extended his tiny hand to Germany. Smiling, Germany gently guided him toward himself and Italy. Surprised by how fragile it was, Germany barely touched the boy's cold skin. The driver left a piece of luggage by the door, returning to the car.

"Be a good boy, Leos," Prussia said, he looked to his brother. "Be kind to him, little brother..." He trailed and turned his back. Once the door shut the boy eyes were glued to the window, watching the car drive away. After an awkward minute of silence, the boy looked up at Germany. His eyes sending a frigid pain down Germany's spine.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer- I dont own hetalia**

**Note- English is not my first language so grammar help is plus ^^. thank for all the reviews :D. reviews=more chapters**

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The boy stepped away from Germany, breaking their stare. Curling his hands up to his chest the boy slowly wandered from Germany and gravitated closer to the window. Germany heard Italy breath in, ready to speak, but he held up his hand and gestured him to be silent. The boy's chin barely reached the window sill, his eyes staring out the glass panes.

"Would you... like to play outside? Leos," Germany asked trying to sound monotone.

"Germany... He has nothing to play with..." Italy hinted. Out of the corner of Germany's eye he looked at Italy,

"He has you... In fact this may turn out for the better. You two can entertain each other and then, maybe, I can get some work done." He said. The door cracked out and the boy stood in the door way, leaning slightly on the frame. Looking back at Italy, his eyes targeted the two men.

"Uh... Okay, Germany..." Italy cautiously walked toward the boy who lead the way.

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_Damn it Prussia!_ Germany though as he opened Leos' suitcase. Inside was more paperwork than actual clothing. One folder was marked GERMANY READ THIS, while the others seemed to be marked with doctor's notes. Pulling the file from the suitcase he sat at his desk and opened it. His brow twitched as he read the summary of the boy's history.

_Leos, male child native to Prussia. Removed from home at age four for serve abuse. Reports filed by authorities suggest starvation and physical abuse. Can not verbalize yet, tends to prefer to squat or sit in corners than stand. No knowledge of utensil use, bathing, hygiene, or other common needs. Although he does not speak or make social interactions a mental evaluation shows he is not disabled and has full comprehension._

_ Leos, age five. Speaking German at a toddler level. Has learned basic care but struggles with dressing himself and eating with utensils. Avoids contact with others but does stand up straight. Vision test confirm his eye sight is normal and the lack of pigment is due to a genetic absence not a phenotype appearance. This may lead to damage later on in life, so precaution should be shown when in snow or in summer. A distant relative has agreed too take him in._

_ Leos, age five. Now in custody of a distant uncle, Gilbert, he is doing better than in the other family's care. He has shown a strong attachment to Gilbert, although it is not a traditional bond of a "father-son". Leos may only be afraid and seeking protection. It has been reported that he is using silverware, but still prefers food he can eat with his hands. He has shown a fear of knifes. His language has improved. Has gained some weight but still very under ideal. He now wears clothes and can dress himself. Struggles with bathing, but is getting use to it._

_ Leos, age six. The uncle can no longer look after him properly and was granted approval to give the child to his younger brother, Ludwig. Speech improvements have been made and he is now functioning on level for a six year old. He shows a sensitivity to music, reported by Gilbert, and tends to play the piano. Has nightmares often but will not talk about them. Even with mental health experts, he will not talk about the dreams or his past. A new condition has reared its head, Leos appears to suddenly bleed. The blood can be stopped and he heals fine but the mysterious injuries have his uncle concerned. His heart rate is rather slow and occasionally struggles. Prone to nasal and oral bleeding he has a tendency to swallow his own blood rather than seeking help. Slowly he is learning to go to his uncle Gilbert when hurt, but still it is reported that he does hide some injuries. His lung have some some kind of damage, most likely chemical, and he will sometimes need medication to assist his breathing. The chemical damage most likely is from abuse since chemical warfare was not used in the area he lived. It is reported he is easy to medicate. Doctors advise that he not run hard or play a sport which may require him to over exert his lungs. He is beginning to show sensitivity to light and very bright colors. His uncle reports that he has incredible ingenuity and crafts relatively complex things. He has made fences, swings, ladders, sling shots and other objects using junk. They do not always work, but his uncle says it keeps him entertained. The swing he made, though rather crude, seems to make him happy and his uncle reports spending more time with him on the swing than any of his toys. The rocking motion may but a suitable tool to soothe him._

_Furthermore, there seems to be proof of a wide range of abuses. A prostitute came forth with more information about the boy which has help his treatment. By request the specifics have remained private but it is known that he was born and grew up in a brothel until later found. This explains his disdain toward women, and perhaps his bathing and touching phobias. The child has no willingness to talk about his abuse. _

Germany composed himself. His fingers trembled, his brained flooded with images of those eyes in terror as the boy was beaten. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he looked around his office. A tint from the setting sun stained the room with neon colors. The clock on the wall hit six, had that report taken so long to read? Setting back into his chair he pushed the boy's folder to the side and tried to distract himself with paper work.

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"Leos... I don't think Germany would be pleased if you took that-" With a snap the spare tire to Germany's automobile was off. The boy rolled the tire away to a tree, Italy tagging along behind. Setting the tire against the trunk of the oak, Leos scanned the backyard.

"Leos, what is it you are looking for?" Italy asked, the boy was did not respond but simply B lined it to Germany's obstacle course. Taking the roped from the climbing wall he coiled it up and took it back to the tree. Italy watching with a dumbfounded look on his face. Siting by the tire he made a lynching knot. Swinging the rope around he threw it up to one of the thick branches, feeding more so it hung down.

"Leos! NO!" Italy exclaimed, fearing the worst Italy sprung toward Leos. Ducking out of the way Italy stumbled right into the tree. Struggling to become re-oriented, Italy held unto the tree.

"Germany! Leos is trying to hang himself!" Italy cried out.

Germany flinched and bolted form his seat. He swung open the door and ran to the side of the house where he skidded to a stop. His fists clenched.

Leos had tied the tire to the ropes and sat on it... A swing. He twisted around on the tire while a fumbling Italy rubbed his face. The expression on Leos' face was blank. Germany felt rage seethe within him. Italy trembled when he saw the angry Germany's face glaring at him.

"Germany, you don't understand! He was making a lynching knot and-"

"Italy!" Germany shouted, "You scared the shit out of me! Do you have any idea-" Germany cut off mid sentence. Leos looked at him, shivering. On the verge of tears, it was the only change in his face they had seen.

"Oh, no," Germany whispered,

"Germany, you have to learn to be more sensitive..." Italy said walking over to Leos. "Germany may seem scary but he is really nice. You'll see," Italy said to Leos. His white eyes looked up at the German, mistrusting him.

"How about a tour of the house?" Italy asked, "Come on there are plenty of things to see." Italy gestured the boy to follow, which he did, leaving Germany outside.

_I guess... I am going to have to contain my temper toward Italy even more now... Shit._ Germany thought.

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"This is the kitchen. I make tons of pasta here, Germany only makes wurst and potatoes, oh but you probably like that stuff. Oh! Here is the living room. The fireplace will keep you warm, and the furniture Germany has is very comfortable... Come on up stairs and I'll show you your room!" Italy said. Leos obediently followed him from room to room. As they ascended the stairs Germany wondered in and locked the door. Stopping for a moment, Leos stared at Germany who looked up at him. After a moment Leos turned and rushed after Italy.

The room was bare except the "sturdier" bed. The freshly re-stuff mattress was firm and covered with a grey sheet. Wondering around, Leos went from corner to corner and finally sat on the bed.

"Do you like it?" Italy asked, Leos turned to look at Italy and just nodded. "Yay! And don't worry about Germany, you'll love him once you get to know him." A deep throat cleared, Germany was standing in the door way. A small objected clutched in his hands.

"Leos, I apologize if I scared you out there... Here, this is something you may like." He entered the room and held out the item he held.

It was a cloth lamb stuffed with wool, It's button eyes were chewed and seams in desperate need of re-stitching. Leos gently took the lamb form Germany and looked at it. Germany sighed in relief when Leos clutched it tightly to his chest.

"Ve... Germany why do you have a toy lamb?" Italy asked,

"A little girl gave it to me during war times... I have kept it since, but I have no use for it. Leos may as well enjoy it." Germany said. Leos was on the bed holding the lamb up and bouncing it up and down. From his lips, escaped barely audible words.

"Danke," His voice was timid and soft. Germany smiled, a rare event, Italy stared at Germany's pleasant expression.

_Maybe Germany will start to smile more now..._ He thought. Germany's face was almost that of another person when a smile graced his face. The stress faded away, his eyes seemed brighter, he almost seemed like a child.

"Alrighty! Who want pasta!" Italy said,

"Hold on Italy, there are two Germans in this house now. There will be far more potatoes than Pasta."

"But I don't think Germany has gotten much work done today has he? Ve, its alright if you don't want to work and cook instead but-"

"No, no, I should work... Besides, you seem to be better with kids... I'll be in my office if you need me." Germany said.

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Leos sat at the center island, the lamb tucked under his arm, staring at his food. For a moment Germany grew concerned that the boy would refuse to eat. Then it dawned on him why. Italy had also been watching but his fears was different from his companion's. Worried that his cooking would taste bad he sampled it himself.

"It is very good Leos, try it." Italy said,

"He probably never ate pasta before... He lived with my brother and grew up in Prussia." Germany said. Germany stabbed a piece of pasta with his fork, blew on it and leaned over to Leos.

"Try it," He urged, his face showed no expression. Leos just stared at Germany and the fork he was trying to get him to eat from. Germany held the fork awkwardly as Leos turned to smell his own plate of food, the hot steam warming his nose. Turning back to Germany he sampled the bit on the fork and nodded softly. Slowly he began to eat, unsure of the new taste. As time pasted his pace quickened, shoveling more pasta in his mouth.

"Maybe he has some Italian in him," Italy said,

"Yes, and maybe I'll pay back my restitution," Germany chuckled.

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Leos crawled into bed, pulling up the sheets and wrapping himself in a cocoon of warmth. Italy sat on the side of the bed, making sure he was tucked in. The moonlight pooled in from the circular window and shined on the pale wood floor. Germany lurked in the shadows of the hallway, standing at just the right angle to see Italy and Leos. Leaning over Italy kissed Leos' cheeks, ruffling his hair.

"Goodnight Leos, Germany and I will be right down the hall if you need us." He said. Leos nodded and yawn, settling as deep as he could into the sheets. Germany left for his bed, which had become his and Italy's bed. His patched up boxers and under shirt hung from his muscled frame as he leaned over to fluff up his pillow. Slipping in just in time for Italy to enter, he closed his eyes as if he had been resting the entire time. Italy scooted in next to him, their back to each other.

The house fell silent as the residents slept. Over time Italy had shifted closer and closer to Germany. His chest to Germany's back, head resting on his broad shoulder blades. Occasionally one of them twitched in their sleep or grunted. Their chest's raised slightly with each breath, growing shallower the deeper they drifted into slumber. The plain room was home only to their bed, a clock, a pot belly stove and a small dresser. Smoldering embers still glowed in the stove, but the room was growing colder. In their state of unconsciousness, Germany and Italy huddled closer together.

Suddenly a shrill pierced their dreams and Germany flung himself forward. Italy, who had been in his arms was pushed into the foot board. His heart pounded in his ears, trying to comprehend what the scream was. The sound had faded out and was replaced by a soft weeping.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**- _Don't own hetalia._

**Note-** _English not my 1st language so grammar may suck. I've decided to add 1 "spolier", but then again there are no spoilers in history lol. It has to do with prussia so if you haven't read far in the comic it may ruin it tad. The spoiler doesn't happen for a while but I begin hinting here._ _Thank you for all the wonderful reviews ^^_

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"_Papa Prussia... May I stay here forever?" Prussia's red eyes looked down at Leos with a great sadness._

_ "No," He said, "You know what you are... You know what will become of me." Prussia said,_

_ "But Papa Prussia, I-" Prussia held his finger's to Leos' lips and hushed him gently. _

_ "It's time for you to leave me... Be a good boy," He whispered and turned his back on Leos. Around them nothing but darkness. Leos followed behind Prussia, and slowly figures appeared. Most of them had fair hair, one in the middle was clearly the leader. Tall and lean, a gentle smile was on his face. His eyes a violet shade that stopped Leos from pursuing. Prussia held his arms out to them, each taking a limb. The leader held Prussia's torso, almost hugging him. Trembling Prussia bit his lower lip._

_ All of the people pulled, Prussia began to bleed, the sound of his bones snapping and flesh tearing. Leos heard someone running from behind him._

_ "Brother!" He screamed, Germany ran past Leos but was too late. His lithe limbs had been severed and the leader held his limp torso._

_ "Germany... You deserve a little piece of your brother... Here," The leader cracked the dead man's neck. Germany pulled his gun from his belt and shot at him. Leos ducked down and covered his ears. Drops of blood splattering from his head. Pain coursed through his skull, his skin split around his fingers._

_ "Papa Prussia!" He cried, "I'm bleeding, Papa Prussia!" His blood began to form a pool around him._

_ "Leos!" A deep voice called. Germany knelt by him. _

_ "Leos! Leos, Leo_s, Leos, Leos, what's wrong?"

Germany sat on the bed trying to pry open Leos' hands. His heart beat against his ribs cage, mind slowly becoming one with reality. Taking a few deep breaths he remembered where he was, who he was with, and sighed. Unballing his fist's Germany held his hands and shook his head.

"Italy, get me some cotton and iodine," He said. Leos' tiny nails had pierced his palms when he he balled his fist. Blood and sweat covered his palms. Sitting up, Leos began to cry again, the salt from his sweat burned his scratches.

"Hush now, it will be alright." Germany said, Italy returned with a swab of cotton and a brown glass bottle. Germany cleaned off the boy's hand and got a look at the scratches. Minor, nothing to worry about. He took the bottle of iodine and soaked a ball of cotton in it then pressed it to Leos' skin. He flinched and started crying again,

"I know, be strong," Germany said, "There, all cleaned." He said. Looking at his hands Leos frowned.

"I'm sorry," He whispered,

"There is nothing to apologize about. Your part of our family now, and us Axis look after each other!" Italy announced,

"Do your lips ever cease moving?" Germany asked, Italy smiled and shrugged. Germany felt an odd twinge of fear. Italy's state was only half true, he looked after his family. But he knew he would betray allies, eventually he had too.

"Does Leos want to sleep with us tonight?" Italy asked, Germany glared at him, his blue eyes almost flaming. Italy smiled sheepishly.

"No thank you..." Leos said. The men stared at Leos with mixed expressions. "But... If its okay... Could I call Papa Prussia tomorrow?" His voice was so soft Italy had missed most of it. Germany relaxed, not realizing that he had tensed.

"Of course," he said. Leos pulled up the sleeves of his night shirt and wiped the tears from his eyes. Settling back down, the boy pulled the blanket up to his face and closed his eyes. Germany stood and nodded to him, dragging Italy out and shutting the door softly.

Germany added some wood to the stove and sat back in the bed. The clock pointed to two and six, he could still sleep a few more hours. Italy was already curled up under the blankets, hogging them slightly. Germany looked down at the smaller male. Most nights, he wished the man would sleep elsewhere, but on nights where the stove could barely keep it above freezing it was nice to have the extra warmth at the very least.

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The pungent smell of wurst and eggs filled the home. Leos' nose twitched as he woke, his lips parted to let his tongue swipe across teeth. His clear eyes opened and blinked to adjust to the east facing window. Sitting up he stretched and kicked away his blanket. Looking down at his scabbed palms he began to remember his nightmare.

Taking a hold of a corner of the blanket he pulled it to the edge of the bed ad smoothed it out. Fluffing his pillow and yanking the last wrinkles from it he stood back to make sure he had made the bed correctly. Taking hold of the stuffed lamb, he opened the door and stood at the top of the stairs. The sound of pots and pans striking each other and fat crackling on a skillet echoed up the stairway. Taking hold of the railing he took each step one at a time until he reached the bottom. Slinking around the corner he saw Germany preparing some food.

From behind, Germany heard one of the stools to the center island move. Turning he froze a moment after seeing Leos sitting at the counter. He had hoped that Italy, for once, would get up for training but instead the fragile boy sat wide awake.

"Good morning, Leos," Germany said,

"Good morning, sir," He whispered,

"Would you like some breakfast? There is pan fried potatoes, wurst and some eggs." Germany offered, Leos just nodded. Germany scrapped the potatoes from the pan and set his own plate up first. Now that he had to think about it, he ate a lot. Guessing how much such a tiny boy would eat without wasting took him a moment. He tried to figure out some kind of formula or proportion but eventually settled on what was easiest to divide. One egg, a half serving of potatoes, and half a wurst. At least, he figured, if the boy didn't finished he could easily stuff a few more bites down his own throat. Setting the plate of hot food in front of Leos he noticed the boys face brighten.

_Starvation_, he thought. Prussia never let him go hungry when growing up. He never knew the pain of stomach shrunk by starvation, he was glad. But Germany wondered as he watched the boy eagerly eat what Leos thought every time he saw food. Germany sat next to him, slowly chewing his eggs.

"If you want more just ask, okay?" Germany said, Leos nodded without stopping from his small feast. Leos' lamb sat on the counter next to him, staring up at Germany as he ate. It's half eaten eyes shining in the natural light.

"You like that lamb?" Germany asked, feeling awkward he even wanted to start a conversation. Leos nodded again, but refused to break concentration from his eating. The two finished their meal in silence.

Germany cleared the table and left a note next to the sink for Italy which read something along the lines of "Since you loafed on training do the dishes". Germany was already dressed in his boots and work out clothes, his hat placed neatly over his combed hair. Stepping out the door he reached back to pull the handle but met resistance. For a moment he pulled harder, then stopped.

"Oh," He said letting go of the handle and turning around. Leos was on the other side of the door holding the knob, looking up at Germany.

"I guess it's not wise to leave you alone... Uh, well, I need to do some training... I can't image it would be much fun to watch, but you can play outside if you like." He said, Leos nodded his head once and followed Germany outside.

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Hanging on his tire swing, Leos watched Germany work through the obstacle course. His feet working through the entangled ropes, crawling under barbed wire, hurtling himself over fences. Sweat dripped from his brow to his chin, occasionally his large hands swept it from his face. The same pattern repeated for about an hour before Germany finally stopped and walked to the well pump. His arm flexed as he pushed the hand bar, drawing the water up. Kneeling, he stuck his head underneath the water. His hair clumped and fell naturally as he pulled back to drink. Leos crept up, waiting for Germany to finish.

"Would you like a drink?" He asked Leos. The boy walked to him, Germany began to press the handle again, drawing more water. Pressing his lips to the frigid water, he shuttered, but then eagerly drank. Germany felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth but twitched it away. A car was approaching, several. His eyes drifted over to the dirt road that lead into the forest and sure enough, the steal wagons bounce out. The ruts and ditches in the road bouncing it's passengers from side to side. On hood was a small flag. Red, white, and with a black hakenkreuz in the center. Germany heart gave a quick thump, his arm ceased moving, the water stopped.

"Leos, go inside," He said softly and gently pushed him toward the back door. Obediently, Leos went to the back door and reach up to open it. He looked back to see Germany stand straight, his boots together, face stoic.

"Seig heil," His deep voice praised from the bottom of his stomach, it made Leos' chest tremble. Leos saw a man in brown, a red band on his arm, hair combed to one side approach and nod his head. He looked toward Leos while he slowly slipped in the door.

Leos peered through the dining room window, watching the mysterious man and Germany. He could not make out what they were saying but was still memorized by the stranger. He had the sudden urge to go outside and meet this new person. The gravitation to this man, to Leos, was strong. They did not speak long and Germany hailed once more before the men departed.

Germany stared at the ground a moment, his hair covering his eyes. Wishing he had been giving a warning that his boss was coming he looked at his unkempt clothing. Disgraceful. Though his boss did not seem to care at all about his appearance, Germany was sure it would have been more impressive to see him in uniform. It was unusual that his boss would come to see him in person, usually he got a stern phone call or letter.

_"I am just checking up on you. I heard there was an addition to your household and was curious if things were going well."_ Prussia really did go to his boss. Germany flipped back his hair and smoothed it out. Sighing, he looked back at his training course but decided to call it a day.

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Leos was just tall enough so his eyes peered over Germany's desk. The watery orbs stared blankly at him as he did his paper work. Observing his repetitive action of reading, signing, stamping and packaging. His stare was not creepy, but rather unsettling as to why this fascinated him so. Finally, Germany acknowledged his presence.

"Leos, is there something you need?" Germany asked,

"May we call Papa Prussia?" He whispered, Germany straightened.

"Of course," He said gesturing for Leos to come around the desk. Germany rang up the numbers and waited.

"Beilschimdt," His brother's voice sounded different. More mature, calmer.

"East?" He asked,

"Ja?"

"It's West,"

"Oh, hey bro, how are you? How is Leos?"

"Fine, fine. He wants to talk to you," Germany said,

"Okay," Germany handed Leos the phone. Too big to hold in his tiny hands, Leos held it with both and propped it up on his shoulder.

"Papa Prussia, I miss you,"

"I know, but it's for the better you live with my brother."

"Papa Prussia may I ask you a question?"

"Sure,"

"Are you going to die?"

"..." Prussia was silent for a moment. Germany stiffened in his chair. Leos had asked his question so matter of factly that it sounded like a joke.

"Papa Prussia?"

"Leos... Everyone is going to die eventually... Are you having bad dreams again?" He asked,

"Uh huh,"

"Want to talk about them?"

"Nuh,"

"Well, if you ever do, Germany is there for you. I'm afraid I will be quiet busy so we may not get to talk much... Okay?"

"But-"

"Hey, be strong, okay? I-" Prussia cut off mid sentence, "I care about you, okay?"

"Ja Papa Prussia,"

"Okay, put Germany on the phone." Leos handed the phone to Germany.

"East?"

"West,"

"How is he doing?"

"He had a nightmare last night and scratched himself a bit, but other than that he has been fine." Germany explained.

"Oh, well, you'll get use to that... Anything else? No bleeding, no coughing fits,"

"No,"

"Good," Prussia sighed,

"Prussia... Be straight with me, who is Leos?" He asked, the other end of the phone when quiet. Prussia drew a long breath,

"You don't want to know,"

"Is it another country?"

"No, he is something else... Brother, stop asking so many questions, just go with the flow okay?" Prussia's voice sounded haggard, drained of his usual energy.

"Are you okay, East?" Germany asked,

"I'm cool... Take good care of him, I got a lot of stuff to do here so I'm gonna let you go, okay?" Prussia said,

"Okay, see you later East,"

_ "Bye, West... Iloveyou," _Prussia hung up. The monotone beep from the other end was all that answered Germany's startled response.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_Review let me know that there is demand for the story, so review if you like :D_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**_- Don't own Hetalia_

**Note**- _English not first language so forgive my grammar/Spelling. Thank you for all the reviews, I really appreciate them. Too clarify some things I've been asked:_

_Yes, its during WW2 and this story will last from just before Hitler's rise to power the end of the war._

_**oooooooooooooooooooooooooo**  
_

_I love you?_ Those words never crossed Prussia's lips. With the exception of a fine brothel girl maybe, when in ecstasy, or drunk Germany could not recall him out right fumbling over a phrase like 'I love you'. He hung the phone on it's cradle and looked back at Leos. The frail boy was leaning on his desk, still in his night clothes.

"How about we get you dressed," Germany said.

Enough clothes for three days, at best. Germany laid out the clothing on the Leos' bed, inspecting it. Very traditional German clothing. Long sleeve shirts that were almost see through, brown shorts with suspenders, high socks and one piece undergarment. Leos shadowed Germany, waiting for a verdict.

"We will get you some new ones today, I think Italy would appreciate a trip outside the house." Germany said.

oooooooooooo

The town was small, but the cobble streets were lined with wears and fresh food. The bustling town was set against the sea, overlooking the port where fishing boats were hauling in the morning catch. The buildings were a plain grey stucco with tan tiled roofs. The noisy streets were a place of fear for Leos, he clung to Germany's uniform and stays so close his tiny feet fumbled over Germany's large boots. Italy skipped happily ahead and would drift down to other vendors before rejoining the group. Germany finally stopped at a tiny store squished between to more modern buildings.

The shop was full of old clothes and random household objects. An old man sat be behind the counter sewing a hem unto a dress. Germany instantly moved to a small rack in the corner. Shifting through them, once in a while he would hold on up to Leos' frame and shake his head. The thrift store had little to offer for a boy so small. In hopes the boy would gain weight, Germany gathered the closest sizes and a belt. Italy had, finally, wandered into the store.

"Oh, you not getting him such old fashion clothes like what is on him now, right?" Italy asked.

"What is wrong with dressing like a German?" Germany made sure he punctuated his words sharply. Italy fidgeted with his fingers,

"Well, it's not the 1800's anymore... He would look better in a dress shirt or something..."

"Fine, then you can do the laundry and press each muddy, stained, and soiled article of clothing and on top of it sew every tear back. A boy needs more durable clothing and this stuff is made right." Germany said laying it on the counter.

"But he is so adorable-"

"Italy," Germany cut him off with a growl. Leos had broken his vice grip to Germany's pant leg and began to wander around the store. His eyes observed every detail of the paintings for sale on the wall, the furniture which was carved with floral accents, and the shelves of nicknacks lined up in the window. Italy and Germany continued to bicker as they tried to find more that would fit the child. Leos continued to wander until he found a pile of clothing in the corner of the room. Kneeling, he rummaged through the pile until he came across a grey coat. It was wool with a cotton lining, simple but it fit. He ran to show Germany who instantly froze.

"Le-Leos... Put that back, its not meant for you." German twitched a bit, Leos looked at the coat that hung on him, checking for a tag or mark of some sorts. All he found was a star on the sleeve. Germany grew impatient, struggling to keep calm.

"Leos, we will find something else for you but please put that coat back where you found it, okay?" His voice almost begged. Leos looked up at him, his clear eyes confused, his lips parted to say something but he was silent. Obediently he pulled the coat off and returned it to the pile in the corner. Germany sighed with relief, Italy stared at him.

"Germany wha-"

"Forget about it." Germany cut Italy off again, "Lets just find him something nice to wear... You can pick out one thing for him..."

"Yay, thank you Germany!" Italy said while riffling through some brighter colored clothing.

In the end Germany had managed to find four outfits to fit him, Italy a small blue and white formal outfit, and one child size trench coat. The old man limped over to the register, punching in the numbers. Looking down at Leos, the boy carted behind Germany.

"Oh, your son looks just like you," The old man said, "And such handsome eyes you have." He complimented. Leos buried his face into Germany's pant leg. Germany placed a hand on the boy's head and smiled.

"Yes, he is going to grow up into a strapping young man." Germany spoke with pride, an odd expression was on his face. The seriousness had broken and a smile hung from his cheeks.

ooooooooooooooooooo

"Germany! Look! That stand is selling jelled fruit, oh its so rare to find this time of year!" Italy said, Germany grabbed his sleeve before he could run to the tiny stand on the corner.

"Don't buy what you can make, Italy," Germany said,

"But... we never have fruit. You say its too expensive," Italy mumbled,

"Yes, and so is it's jellied form. We spent enough money today, besides we can always make some fried dough or something." Germany reasoned.

"Has Leos ever had Jelled Fruit?" Italy asked, Leos was attached to Germany's leg and was oblivious to Italy's questions. The boy was too concerned with the bustling street to care about what the two men argued over.

"I'll pay Germany, but no kid should ever pass up some nice candy like this. Besides, I am sure Prussia didn't exactly treat him to sweets." Italy said,

"No, too many sweets spoil a child." Germany said, Italy just widened his eyes. Slightly cocking his head ad twisting his lips he raised in eyebrows with a said begging expression. With a sigh, Germany shrugged and Italy ran off to the stand. Germany took a seat on a near by bench, Leos climbed up next to him. Looking to his side he noticed for the first time how tiny he was. The boy was about the size of what a four year old may be, and weighted even less. His face did not look boney, but the rest of him was clearly wasted away. Even on this pleasant day, the boy was struggling not to shiver. Germany leaned over into the bag and brought the coat out, draping it over Leos.

"Are you cold?" Germany asked, Leos nodded. Awkwardly, Germany pulled the boy closer by wrapping his arm around him. Leos leaned into his side, enjoying the heat. The boy's cold body sent a shock through him, for a moment Germany thought he was sick.

_He is sick though..._Germany thought. Italy came back with three slices of candy. He handed a flesh colored one to Leos,

"It's peach, it's the best flavor." Italy said. Leos gently took the candy from Italy.

"Thank you," He whispered, his small lips wrapped around the sugary treat. Italy handed a red one to Germany who thanked him before sampling it. Italy sat next to Leos, nibbling at his own piece.

oooooooooooo

When they returned Germany had asked Leos to wait in his office for his check up. The boy already had the routine down from Prussia, his shirt unbuttoned and waiting for the icy sting of the stethoscope to touch his chest. Germany knelt and placed the instrument in his ears. Counting the heartbeats for ten seconds he did the math a figured Leos' heart was doing about forty beats per minute. Flipping to a daily chart, his brother's handwriting had scribbled down each number. It seemed about average, some days falling dangerously low to thirty five beats other days up to fifty. In the case was lined up a row of medication. After a careful reading he set out all ten pills.

"You'll need some water with these... Wait a moment," Germany said. As Germany selected the smallest glass from the cabinet his mind wandered. _So many pills... Where can we get them from?_ His eye down cast in thought, he returned to Leos who sat contently in his large chair. Handing him the water, Leos eagerly swallowed the pills.

ooooooooooooooooo

Italy watched from the kitchen window, sauce on the stove simmering away, as the two where outside training. Leos could never, would never, be able to keep up with Germany's intense work out. But still he tried, desperately shuffling about the course. While Germany hurtled over the fences, Leos merely went around them. When Germany dragged himself underneath the barbed wire, Leos ran to catch up from the rope hoops. This same routine played out every day until Leos would suddenly stop and go to his swing to watch. But today, when Leos stopped so did Germany. From his pocket he produced the stethoscope, and held it to Leos' chest.

"I'm sorry Leos, its just too much stress on you." He sighed, Leos looked up at him, begging. "I am sorry... But trying to keep up with me may hurt you... Take a rest on the swing okay?" Leos did as he was told. Italy slipped from the house and went to the swing.

"Germany is a strong man, isn't he?" Italy asked, "I wish I could keep up with him... But I think, even if I worked every single day... I would never be able to keep up." Italy added, "I don't think anyone could at this point." Leos looked up at Italy.

"How about a walk, Leos?" Italy asked, "We can all go after lunch, maybe we can even get to the port and see the fish." Leos smiled widely at Italy's words. "Alright then, we'll go right after lunch, now go take a bath, your covered in dirt."

Leos tested the water with his hand. His tiny frame leaning against the porcelain tub. Staring at his reflection, he touched his cheek right under his eye. Shaking free of his under garment he slid into the water and settled at the foot of the tub. His eyes lurking just above the surface. As he blew bubbled in the water, he eavesdropped on Italy talking to the food. Though he thought it odd, it was interesting to hear Italy tell his life story to the pasta. Sitting up to breathe, Leos rested his arms on the side of the tub.

He let himself daydream as he stared at the ceiling. The pale wooden trusses had been maintained well, but still showed their old age. The bathroom was small, only enough room for a toilet, sink and tub. The tiling was bland, white with no hint of color. Closing his eyes Leos let his mind wander.

How long it had been was unknown, but a painful sting gnawed at Leos' side. His eyes shot open, with a splash he pulled himself higher from the water. The pain increased, he squeaked but silenced himself. Looking down pink water surrounded him. Trying to push the tinted water away, it only painted the entire tub.

**oooooooooooooooooooooo**

_Reviews let me know the demand level for this story, so review please :D_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer-**_ Don't own Hetalia_

**Note- **_English is not my first language. thanks for all the reviews ^^  
_

_**oooooooooooooo**  
_

Leos' muscles strained to hold himself up and slid his legs over the top of the tub. His hand held his side as he curled on the floor. Looking around, his towel was just out of reach. Dragging himself, his finger tips grazed the soft wool. Trying to muffle his squeaks of pain, he ripped the towel from it's rack and pressed it against his side. Counting his breaths the boy began to calm down. His mind comprehended what had happened and he applied pressure to his wound. After a moment he took a peek.

It wasn't large, but was rather lavishly bleeding. It was as if he just split open, a straight wound about three inches long graced his side right above the hip. Grabbing the side of the tub for support he stood and looked down into the water.

_I need to clean this up_ He thought. He pulled out the rubber puck and let the water drain. Shivering, he waited patiently for the tub to empty, his hand gripping the rim. Pushing the plug back in he drew more water, splashing it up the sides, unplugging, and letting it drain until the bath was clean. Pulling his bloody towel from his body he saw his wound had stopped hemorrhaging. He used the red splotched towel to soak up the pink foot prints he left and then quickly dried himself. Leos dressed, making sure everything was in order. Kneeling he stared at the blood soaked towel, pondering how to dispose of it.

"Leos," Italy called from behind the door, "You know Germany doesn't like wasting water, especially hot water. Is everything alright?"

"Ummm, yes sir," Leos spoke up just enough for Italy to hear,

"Lunch is ready, hurry please, before it gets cold... Oh are you dressed? Germany wants a face cloth." Without waiting for a response, Italy opened the door. Leos tried to shove the towel underneath the tub but he was caught.

"Leos! What happened?" Italy began to panic,

"I'm sorry," Leos whispered, "Please... I'm sorry,"

"Are you hurt? Where did all this blood come from? Oh, my, Germany! Germany I need your help!" Italy called. The heavy thump of Germany's boots pounded up the stairs. His distinct gait grew louder as he approached.

"What is-" Germany cut himself off. He knelt by Leos, who had covered his face. Gently prying his hands free Germany made eye contact. Leos' eyes were overflowing,

"Shhhhhh, what is wrong? Are you hurt?" Germany asked. Italy's panic was growing greater and distracting Leos.

"Italy, go wash the towel. I'll look after Leos, okay?" The Italian did as he was told and disappeared form the room. Germany looked back at Leos.

_It was mentioned that he bleeds... but from where? I Don't see any... Oh,_Germany thought. The boy had his hand over his side and was leaning slightly to his right. Germany gently untucked his shirt and looked at the wound.

"Did you cut yourself on something? What happened?" Germany asked calmly.

"I just... Bleed... It just happens when the people are hurt."

"The people? What are you talking about? What people?" Germany was a bit more persistent in his tone.

"Papa Prussia marks down when I bleed... I'm okay now... It stopped," Leos avoided the question and pointed to the wound. Germany held his palm to Leos' forehead.

"You are cold though, How badly did you bleed?" Leos was silent. Germany looked him in the eyes, "Leos, don't hide your wounds. If your hurt please come to me. I will never get mad at you, okay?" Leos nodded. Germany took his hand and guided him from the bathroom and down the stairs. He sat Leos on the couch and wrapped him in an afghan.

"I'm going to wash up, get warmed up, okay?" He said, Leos curled up tightly in a ball and sighed.

Germany sat at his desk, his hair still slightly damp from his bath, staring down at his mound of paperwork. His hand scribbled 'Bled' on a calendar to his side, 30th of January 1934, with little attention. His thoughts were drown in work, even the energetic calls of Italy for lunch did not grab his attention.

oooooooooooooooooo

Germany buttoned up Leos' coat for him, flattening the collar and smoothing the flaps out. After making sure the boy was well bundled, Germany took his tiny hand in his. The boy's fingers were so small next to his, Germany found himself frozen in thought. Amazing. How something so small can grow so big. So fragile, so strong. Had he ever been this weak? Yes, of course, but those days where long over. Even so, Prussia had conditioned him and raised him to be what he is today. Germany blinked, his sudden paused did not go unnoticed by Leos or Italy.

"Lets walk," He mumbled as he opened the door.

The winter weather had painted beautiful accents on the streets. The trees hung with ice leaves, the cobbles were frosted over. Each bench had a coat of gloss of frozen water spilled over it. Leos was gripping Germany's hand for support, his flat soled shoes slid around on the street. Germany leaned over and picked Leos up, setting him on his broad shoulders. Leos curled around Germany, burying his face in his blond hair. Italy smiled to himself as he watched the two from the corner of his eye. Though Germany's face was still firm, there was a glow in his cheeks.

"I need to stop at the post office," Germany said, "Then we can go to the port." He added.

The post office was an older building crushed between larger brick studios. The door was small, Germany had to duck down to enter. Leos was back on the ground and gravitated to the stove where he warmed his face. Italy sat in the window sill, watching the square and the people bustle about. Germany returned with a stack of papers equal to the ones residing on his desk. Tied with brittle string, he slipped a small card that had been jammed on top out and read it.

"We have a meeting Italy, one week from now..." His eyes drifted to Leos. Italy followed his gaze.

Once they reached the port, Italy and Germany began discussing the situation over. Leos leaned against a railing and looked down into the water. In his hand was a small pile of pebbles he dropped into the sea.

"We could find a sitter," Italy said,

"No, too risky... Besides I don't feel comfortable leaving Leos with some I don't know." Germany responded.

"Maybe we could get that kid country to play with him." Italy said,

"Sealand? A kid watching a kid? No way,"

"Maybe find another country to watch him for a bit?"

"Oh, I can see the hostage situations now,"

"Well then... We have to take him with us." Italy declared,

"... I'll talk to my brother tonight, he had to do something with him. Leos was never at a meeting." Germany said. The fog horn blew on one of the ships. Leos jumped out of his skin and ran to Germany. He clung desperately, as if he had been shot at. Germany pulled the boy pull on his lap and let him wrap around his muscled frame. Germany whispered some words to him to comfort the boy and then sat him straight.

"Not long ago, a great ship like this would never grace our ports. We were barely able to defend ourselves. That roar of the boat is one of strength and it will protect you to the end Leos." Italy flinched at Germany's words. Generally, Germany had kept his nation pride in check, rarely bringing it up. He had plenty of proof he was loyal to his leaders, he had no need to say it. But some how, when his deep commanding voice spoke of his homeland, an uncomfortable prick jabbed at Italy. And yet, he admired the pride on the German's face.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Well, honestly West, I have a house full of servants with nothing to do. I had to let them go. Leos was cared for around the clock, I was always off taking vital regions and being generally awesome. He needed more than one person," Prussia said. Germany's face rested in his palm as he held the phone to his ear.

"Well, I don't have a house of servants. I have me and Italy and be both need to go to that meeting... Would it be wise to take him?"

"No, it wouldn't... But I don't see much of an option. My servants are all gone, and I myself am finding ways to cut back."

"Okay, I guess we take him with us..." Germany muttered,

"Its not like he's hard to entertain. Just keep him away from other countries."

"Right, thanks East,"

"No problem, West. I look forward to seeing him."

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Germany was on edge, about to tip, and plummet into an ocean of chaos. He sat in the back of a car, Italy on the right and Leos in between them. His finger tapped nervously on his lap as he tried to hide his emotions. His jaw clenched, eyes cold, brow frowned, he wasn't good at lying. Dressed in his brown suit and tie, he tried to convince himself it was like every other meeting.

The car stopped, he didn't wait for the driver to open he door, instead he just let himself out and turned to get Leos. Italy had also grabbed onto the boy.

"Let go, Italy," German demanded,

"No, its easier for him to get out my way,"

"Italy!"

"Germanyyyyy," The two pulled, Leos yanked in both directions, unamused. He waited for their fight to end, of course Germany won. He grasp Leos' hand and helped him up the flight of stairs to the front door. Leos' comfort level dropped immediately upon entering the grand estate. The loud commotion of people made Leos suction himself to Germany's leg. The brightly lit halls and main rooms were decorated lavishly with red carpets and gold trims. As Germany walked by the other countries attention was immediately paid to him. Stares aimed at Leos.

From the crowd worked through a silver haired man. His blue suit accented by war garments. Leos ripped away from Germany and ran to him. Prussia knelt and welcomed the boy's hug.

"Papa Prussia!" He cried, and sobbed into his former caregiver's shirt.

"Shhhhhh, there, there lil awesome. It's okay, shhhhhhh," Prussia whispered in his ear.

"I miss you Papa Prussia," Leos whispered back,

"I miss you too," Prussia said pulling away. Standing he looked at his brother who placed a hand on the boy's head.

"West," Prussia breathed, "How is he doing?"

"Very well, he had a bleeding accident a week ago, but hasn't since." Germany said, Prussia sighed,

"Get use to that... Anyway, is he eating? Sleeping well? All that stuff?" Prussia sounded more like a mother leaving a list of chores than a commanding officer.

"He is thriving," Germany said, "I enjoy having him in my home." Italy caught up with them and smiled.

"Leos is just a wonderful boy to have around, adorable as could be, oh I wish there were ten Leos'. He loves pasta, he's like a little me!" Italy burst. Prussia crossed his arms,

"Perhaps less needy though..." He muttered, "Anyway, West, I have something to talk to you about before the meeting begins... May we?" He asked, gesturing toward an empty room. Italy took Leos' hand and walk him toward the patio over looking the mountain range. Germany looked back once more before shutting the door.

Prussia sat with his hands folded into a prayer pose and rested his forehead against them. His smile faded and shoulders slumped.

"Brother," Prussia began, "This is going to sound... utterly psychotic... But... You know you boss wants to cross Poland and unite Prussia and Germany. The Prussian government has all but died, Germany owns us almost in its entirety... Please... Invade Poland, unite our people, even if it means my complete dissolution, just please... Make the Prussians and German's one." Prussia almost hissed his words through his gritted teeth.

"... What... Are you serious? With all your ambition? All your pride? Your giving up brother?" Germany asked,

"No, I am not... But I will submit and let our cultures intertwine... You see... Ugh, God how do I say this?..." Prussia buried his face in his palms and dug his nails into his flesh. His chest heaved once and then he laughed nervously.

"I guess... I have to tell you what Leos is... In order for you to fully understand..."

_**ooooooooooooooooooooooo**_

_please R&R ^^_


	6. Chapter 6 Warning

_**Disclaimer-** I don't own Hetalia_

_*******NOTE******-----** This chapter contains **very** sensitive material referring to the outlook, at the time of WWII, of Jewish culture**. THIS CHAPTER WILL RUB PEOPLE THE WRONG WAY**. America and Germany are going to get into some touchy subjects here, so here is the** warning**. I left a lot of **important** points out of the argument for time sake. This is a very complex subject. Again this chapter is going to tick some people off. Try to understand that there has to be some harsh reality conflicts thrown into this story to make it work. I apologize in advance if I offend anyone._

_Also, i messed up with the time line of events, thankfully someone caught it. Prussia, at this point, is a state not a country_.

.............

Prussia cover his face and looked away from his brother. Germany placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, his blue eyes wide with concern.

"East... What is wrong?" Prussia slammed his fist against the table.

"If anything... I must … Leos... Brother..." He paused a drew a long breath. "Leos is not a country... He is not just some boy born in our family... Leos is the embodiment of the People." Germany withdrew his hand and covered his mouth.

"What... What does that mean?"

"Leos is our culture, he represents our people. Prussian ways and traditions, old German heritage... it all pools into him. I am just letting you know, reuniting the territories would be beneficial not only to your boss's ambition but to Leos as well. First he was exclusively Prussian, but ever since the I founded you he has slowly been blending with Germans. He will be absorbed fully into German culture and become German without division, fully... he will suffer as Germans suffer, cry as they do, bleed as they do, it is nothing short of a curse on the boy should Germany hit harder times... Leos is becoming more sensitive because Prussian and German territories have fused and as your boss unites the Germans surely Leos will grow stronger! But heed again, Leos suffers as his people suffer. War, death, famine, anything that effects the people of his culture will be inflicted on him. As you grow Brother, watch Leos, he is your gauge to how your people are. He aided me well while I was separate but our physical unification will transform him... He will become your child, Germany."

"Oh... Brother..." His whispered,

"We have pain when our political and governmental systems begin to fail... But, Leos will only be pained with the people... Is it any better? Before I had Leos in my care, whoever had him originally may have known what he was and hated the Prussian people. To torture the boy was their greatest satisfaction and if I ever find out who she is I will not hesitate to cut her throat. Now that our cultures are fused, should someone abuse the Germans it is Leos who will pay." Prussia hissed at the end, his jaw clenching tighter.

"Brother... Are there other children like him? For other countries?" Germany asked. Prussia regained his composure and looked at his brother, the familiar spark back in his eye.

"Well, only if they claim some vital regions..." He chuckled, "Leos... Was fathered by someone," Prussia paused, "But he is your son now, West. If other countries fuck someone and have a child there is a chance they will be born with this, eh, 'curse' I guess would be a correct term... I wouldn't ask though." Prussia muttered.

"Yes, well, if that is the case France must have an army of children," The unfamiliar voice made both men jump. Their color bled from their face as they turned.

"What? Just saying," America was wiping his hand on a paper towel. "You know... This room leads right into a shared bathroom with the adjacent banquet hall... Kinda bad room to pick," He said. Prussia's eye twitched, his crimson eyes setting a death glare on America.

"You speak a word of this and I will do to you what I did to France!" Prussia spat,

"Chill, I don't really care. What am I going to do with a kid? Besides make his life totally awesome." America smirked,

"Excuse me, but I am the definition of awesome, boy. And if I so much as see your blubbering gut roll over to-"

"Hey! I'm fit as ever!"

"Fit? Fit what? Into tunnel? Barely!" The two's bickering became nothing but white noise. Germany was still, resting his face against his palm. Leos' explanation for how he bled, made sense. The reason the boy wasn't confined to a hospital, and why his boss seemed to openly contradict himself by ordering the care for Leos.

"Well, my people may be heavier than yours! But at least they aren't purposefully _starved_!" America hissed, his statement snapped Germany back into reality.

"Excuse me?" Germany's deep voice almost growled, his blue eyes setting on the American.

"You know what I'm talking about! Oh, sure, its just a little bit now, but your boss is going to do it more and more! He is insane!" American spat. German paused for a moment and stood. Most of the time, he himself would mutter 'my crazy boss' or 'my boss is a nutcase'. But for some reason when it came out of the younger country's mouth it infuriated him. His fists balled and his shoulders tensed.

"You know nothing of suffering... Nothing... I may not like everything my boss does, even despise some of it! But at the very least my government gets things done! Unlike your constant bickering and feuding, dragging out the issues until they boil over unto your people!" Germany shouted.

"Well, at least my people can choose to bicker!"

"Oh, what a great opportunity!"

"Don't bitch at me because I'm better potato freak!"

"Oh yeah, your so much better! You think our segregation is bad? Look at your own country! Half the country is still separated from the Africans who where born on YOUR soil! Mr. Land of the Free! Racist attitudes run wild on your land. " Germany hissed,

"Hey! I'm dealing with racism, but you are judging on religion!"

"I am not judging! My boss is! And they are not just a religion! They are a race!" Germany's scream had made the room suddenly fall quiet. Other countries had slipped in, but were now in shock. England has his mouth covered, France in a corner, Japan's eyes wide, and Prussia in disbelief as he stared at his brother's outburst.

"You wouldn't understand you stupid American... They have been considered a race longer than you have been a country! The came from the south, they have features, they have traditions, just like your African citizens. I may not like what my boss is doing, but don't preach to me boy!"

"They are a religion!"

"Race!"

"Religion!"

"RACE!" The fight spurred onward. Prussia, Japan, and some other countries had to hold Germany back when America let loose some lower blows about the Versailles Treaty. The hideous argument came to an end when Austria stepped between.

"Both of you shut the FUCK up!" He demanded, "What the FUCK is wrong with you? Germany. Regain your composure... And you America have no business in foreign affairs with your Lend Lease I am neutral bull shit! We can not help what our superiors do! So lets all calm down and get this meeting under way." Austria hissed,

"Bull shit?!" America was cut off by England,

"Shut that mouth of yours, jeez... I need a drink... American come drink with me." He said while dragging the younger country off.

"This isn't over potato bastard!" America shouted,

"Shut up!" England scolded as he dragged his brother away faster. Germany was still fuming but the red shad he had turned was fading. He sat back down in his chair and buried his face in his hands.

"I don't want to defend _him_!" Germany said,

"Brother," Prussia sat next to him, "There are always going to be things we hate about our leaders, but in turn we self loath and injure ourselves further. Try to see the good, and maybe things will change."

...............

Leos stood on his tip toes and looked out over the mountain range. Italy leaned against the stone railing and breathed in the crisp morning air. Looking at Leos, he sighed. So much like Germany, it was no wonder he seemed to distance himself from the flamboyant Italy. Resting his face against the stone, Leos listened to the bird calls and distant bustle of the forest. His face looked utterly bored. The sound of the fight between Germany and America had echoed unto the porch. Both of them stayed still, listening as closely as they could. When it ended, Leos turned his head away from Italy. His tiny shoulders rose sporadically, his chest heaving.

"Oh, Leos, its okay," Italy knelt down rubbed his back. "Don't cry, its not your fault."

"It is..." Leos whispered, "I want Papa to be happy, but now his boss makes him sad and others angry at him... It's my fault," Leos rubbed his eyes, "I was so sick I agreed to an-anything to get me better, now Pa-papa Germany is suffering trying to care for me."

"Leos you have nothing to do with Germany's boss, you just a little boy. Come now, how about something to eat? You must be hungry from that long ride here." Italy said. He held Leos' hand but the boy didn't move. He sniffled and licked his lips,

"My... F-feet hurt," He whispered, Italy gently picked Leos' foot up and held his back up for support. His tiny shoes slid off easily, his grey socks stained. His sole was covered in cuts and bruises.

"How long have you been walking like this?! This must have been so painful," Italy asked,

"A while..." He whispered,

"Lets see if I can pick you up and carry you to the dinning hall, we can get some lunch before the meeting starts." Italy brace himself, expecting the boy to weight enough to strain his barely worked body. To his surprise, the boy was one of the lightest things he had picked up, almost flinging the lad over his head.

"Oh, your so light, we have to get more pasta in you, Ve," Italy said.

..........

Leos was set up with an endless buffet of food before him. Italy sat next to him, watching the glow in the boy's eyes grow. Italy scooped some pasta and sauce unto the boy's plate. Looking at the array of drinks, most of them wine and beer, he spotted a soft drink in the corner. The bottles a smooth green glass, a red label displaying its American name. Italy reached over and selected the closest one.

"Have you ever had a soft drink, Leos?" Italy asked, Leos shook his head. "Well, America seems to really enjoy them. I don't remember tasting this kind, but I am sure it is good." Italy poured the drink into a glass and presented Leos with silverware.

He wasted no time digging in. For such a tiny boy, Italy found himself constantly refilling the plate. Watching the child, Italy himself couldn't help but desire some. Soon both of them were feasting. Leos took a sip of the drink for the time, his eyes widened with awe as the sweet drink bathed his tongue.

"This is delicious," He said,

"The pasta?" Italy had not been paying attention,

"No, the drink... The pasta is okay, its not as good as yours thought," Leos went back to eating, Italy smiled.

"Thank you,"

............

Germany stormed around, an air of aggression around him. His brother shadowed him and shot glances to judgmental eyes as his brother aimlessly wandered. Some of the countries all but ignored their presence. Germany muttered under his breath, something along the lines of 'prick' and some sexual act he preferred be done on America. The rounded the corner and instantly, Germany relaxed.

Leos sat with Italy, eating and drinking, a smile plastered on his face. Germany walked over and rested his hand on Leos' shoulder.

"Papa Germany," Leos said looking up at him. A smile cracked his stone face and he gently picked the boy up from his meal. Leos had no protest and smiled as well. Reaching down, Germany grasp a cloth napkin and wiped Leos' face. The fight, the tension, it all faded away as Leos and Germany interacted. The boy wrapping around his new caregiver and looking content, even with bleeding soles. Italy watched with a smile, wanting to partake in the embrace. The other countries had been gawking at Germany's affection toward the boy, but Prussia glared back to warn them. Germany's stance changed from happy to protective, shielding Leos from the others.

_Just because they are a different race... Does not mean they are not German...But for your sake Leos... I hope I am wrong, or you will suffer greatly. Maybe that will convince my boss to stop... Proof, they are Germans, they belong._ Germany squeezed Leos a little tighter.

................

_So, Leos is the body of the people... Anyone guess it? If so you get a cookie. Reviews are the fuel which this story runs on ^^ Let me apologize again should I have touched a on a sensitive spot. Oh, any I forgot to mention this back in the beginning but since Hetalia world had WW2 end in like a few weeks or something, when I say 'a month' or a 'few days' the actual date may change by years. Hints about what year it is will be though out the chapter.  
_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer-** dont own hetalia_

_**Note**- thank you for all the wonderful reviews_

**ooooooooooooooooooooo**

_Leos stood in a dirt field, fenced in with barbed wire, the sky grey and bleak stretching to the horizon. In his hands was the lamb Germany had given to him. Still in his night gown he panicked. _

_ "Papa Germany? Where am I? Papa!" He called and began to walk the length of the field. On the other side of the fence was Germany. Leos ran to him, crying. Germany held his hands out for him to stop._

_ "Halt! Leos!" Just before the fence, Leos stopped. Germany looked long and sad into Leos' eyes. A butterfly passing in between them._

_ "Don't you want me anymore Papa Germany?" Leos asked, the butterfly landed on the barbed wire, a horrid hissing sound and a pop, the insect was zapped and fell dead on the ground._

_ "Pa... Papa?" Leos whispered. Germany reached through the gap in the barbed wire and held out his hand. Leos laid his hand in Germany's, sobbing on the sleeve on his uniform. Germany leaned forward more, his face tired. Slipping, he fell on the wire._

_ "Papa!"_

"Papa!" Leos screamed, he clutched his stuffed lamb and leaned forward into his quilt. From down the hall Germany's heavy footsteps rushed to his room. He felt the warm, muscular arms of Germany wrap around him. The scent of his sweat, the soap his clothing was washed in, and the musky natural smell he always carried with him calmed the boy. Leos leaned into Germany's chest, listening to his heart.

"Did you have a bad dream?" He whispered,

"Yes," Leos whispered back,

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No," He curled up against Germany. Sighing Germany pet the boy's hair and waited for him to settle down.

"Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight?" Germany offered, Leos nodded and Germany scooped him up.

"Tonight only, okay?" Germany had said that phrase about three times in the past month. About once per week, Leos had a nightmare bad enough to wake everyone. Most of the time, he cried softly into his pillow, which still woke Germany. An ache nipped inside Germany's chest each night as Leos would cry alone. Desiring to burst into the boy's room and at the very least be there while he wept was all Germany wanted to do. He had done it once but Leos had curled away from him. From then on, Germany only came in when Leos cried out for him, which wasn't as often as most other children would. He figured.

Germany looked at his bed, the sleeping Italian was curled up to the side of the bed closest to the stove. The bed was barely big enough for the two of them, but Leos' tiny body made little difference. Lifting the covers he positioned Leos between them. Leos turned on his side and cuddled against Italy, Germany laid on the opposite side.

"Papa," Leos whispered,

"Mmmh?" Germany moaned, half asleep,

"I love you," He breathed,

"...I love you too,"

ooooooooooooooooooooo

By morning Italy and Leos were in each others arms, sleeping like stones, with a blush of warmth on their faces. Germany looked on as he dressed and groomed himself. Leos stirred a bit, opening his eyes just enough to see Germany before moaning and sitting up. Following his 'Papa' into the bathroom, Leos stepped up on a stool that Germany had made for him and they washed together. Carefully combing his hair Germany smoothed back any strays with a damp hand. Leos had tried this once, but his locks where far thicker and unruly compared to the older man's. Instead he combed his hair straight and took equal time making sure it was perfect.

This had been their morning routine for quiet some time. Italy, as usual, opted out of his training and instead woke up hours later preparing breakfast. Every morning after breakfast, Leos was weighted and heart checked.

"Your doing well Leos, you've gained one kilogram in the last few weeks." Though Germany said this with a smile the boy was still dismally under an ideal weight. Though it seemed Leos would eat just as much as a grown man, his ribs still protruded, hip bones poked through his taught flesh, the only thing that didn't look ill was his face. Always round and blushed, his eyes bright.

The mundane routine was interrupted by a knock on the door. Germany walked from his study to the door, his work out clothes still on and stained with sweat. A solider stood in the door way, immediately Germany stood straight and called hail. The solider did the same and handed him a telegraph.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Leos stood at the edge of Germany's desk, his eyes peering over the table. Germany's fingers trembled lightly as he read the telegraph. Flipping over, he set it down and rested his forehead on his palm. Sneaking up to his side Leos gently tugged at Germany's arm.

"Papa?" He whispered,

"Leos... I," Germany looked a away for a minute. Swallowing hard he turned back and smiled. "Lets take the day off and play, just you, Italy, and I." He said. Leos smiled and took off into the kitchen to announce the news to Italy. The Italian's high pitched cry of joy made Germany twitch a bit and rub his ear.

"Is it true? No training? No work? Oh, Germany please say Leos isn't joking with me!" Italy exclaimed as he ran into Germany's office.

"It is true... One day, that is it," Germany said with his arm folded on his chest.

"Oh! Thank you Germany! Ve-" Italy leaned over and kissed Germany's cheek. The man instantly blushed. Leos stood on his tip toes and did the same, following Italy back into the living room. Germany pushed the warm feeling in his chest down and stood up.

"So, where would you like to go?" Italy asked, Leos shrugged. Besides trips to get groceries and mail, Leos had never been beyond the picket fence of Germany's yard.

"Lets go to the park... There will be other children there and Leos can enjoy himself." Germany suggested,

"And we can get candy!" Italy said,

"No candy, I need to start saving and the park is good free fun. Candy is expensive..." Germany said.

"But... It's so good," Italy mumbled,

"Well, there are some dried mint leaves in the cupboard... Knock yourself out." Germany said,

"Chewing on leaves? Eck, I rather eat potatoes," Italy muttered. Germany looked to the side a moment.

"In the back of my sock draw is a little tin can, it has about three Reichsmarks in it. Bring one, and we will see what sweets we can get with that." Germany said, Italy shot up the stairs, the sound of the dresser opening and Italy rummaging through Germany's undergarments made him tense a bit. Italy bolted back down and appeared with the money in hand.

"Thank you Germany!" Italy's face was bright,

"Danke Papa," Leos said.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

The park was located in the eastern part of the town. Germany had driven there to avoid tiring Leos out and parked along the street. Leos had been watching in awe as they pulled up to the small area. A playground was set up for children while walk ways and ponds with landscaping was bustling with young couples. Germany walked around and opened the door for Italy and Leos.

"Germany is being so kind today, Ve!" Italy said. Leos grabbed Germany's hand, instantly nervous.

"It is okay, go play. They are no more dangerous than Italy," Germany said,

"Hey," Italy protested, Germany's smile stop all defensiveness. Gently prodding Leos, Germany sent him off in the direction of the nearest swing. The men took a seat on a bench across the play area, close to the pond. The sun was covered by a blank of clouds, which made the grey playground bleaker. Germany had on a black trench coat which went down to his knees. Italy, a green military coat and hat. For a moment they watched Leos as he was accepted in with the other children.

"Italy... My boss is invading Poland tomorrow... This will result in war." Germany said, Italy looked at Germany. His eyes wide. "This may be one of the last times I can afford to treat you two right. From here on out, things are going to get pretty tight. I will be working constantly... Scraping together cash... It is going to be an intense conflict." Germany sighed. Italy leaned over and gently grabbed Germany's arm with both his hands.

"Don't worry Germany! I will train extra hard! No more slacking, I can help. And don't worry about food or money, I'll work another job. We'll be fine." Italy insisted, but Germany cast his eyes down.

"The time for training is over... It is time for action." Germany said.

"You don't want to fight... Do you?" Italy said,

"I would like to be one with my Prussian brother, I would very much like that land between us. But my boss is aiming for all of Poland, which is mostly Slavic. It's not like Austria. It is truly provoking and threatening others... I am so sick of fighting." Germany said. Italy wrapped his arms around the German's chest.

"So... Germany took Leos and I out one last time for fun? You are really nice Germany," He said. Germany slowly moved his arm to hold Italy in closer.

"...Why don't you go choose something sweet from one of the shops, Italy?" Germany whispered.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

All day, the pseudo family relaxed. Italy had retreated some warm pastry, an exceptionally rare item with all the rationing and strict production of flour. Simple, they were glassed with melted sugar and sprinkled with just a pinch of cinnamon. Leos sat between the two men, licking at the glaze on his pastry. The sky was turning dark, as if it were to rain. Discouraged their last day of peace would end in rain, Germany quickly thought of something else they could do. He escorted them to a small shop on the edge of town, full of small luxuries. He purchased an old book and a game of checkers. Just as they left, the rain began to drizzle down.

Once home Germany threw a log of wood on the fire and laid out a blanket on the wooden floor. He set the game up for Italy and Leos, while he retired to the couch with the book he bought. Italy and Leos lay on their stomach, looking at the board game. Slowly they matched each other and then fled. The game going nowhere as far as progress. Germany was comfortable in his robe as his eye's skimmed the pages.

A growl of thunder cause Leos to jump.

"You okay?" Germany asked, Leos nodded and continued his game. Suddenly Leos stopped, curling his hand around the black checker piece.

"No." Leos said, "I'm not okay," He placed the checker forward one pace on the board. His tone was completely causal, no distress.

"What is wrong?" Italy asked, Leos shrugged,

"Something just doesn't feel right... Papa," He turned, "I want to tell you something... Something that happened to me before." He said.

"Oh, a memory? Let me guess about Prussia?" Germany asked,

"No, about a nightmare... Papa, you'd never lock be behind fences right?" Leos asked,

"Of course not, in fact my boss is working to expand the Germany territory to bring us all together." Germany said,

"Okay, just checking," He said. It was the first time he mentioned the contents of a dream before. Germany wanted to prod further,

"Is there anything else about this dream you want to share?" Germany asked,

"No," Leos said,

"Alright then," Germany answered and turned back to his book. Italy moved his checker forward. Thinking carefully, Leos picked up his piece and jumped five of Italy's red checkers. Italy's jaw dropped,

"H-how did you see that?" Italy asked,

"This isn't my first time playing checkers, Mr. Italy," Leos confessed, "Papa Prussia made me play... I didn't understand chess so he said this was the next best thing. Something about learning to claim regions." Leos shrugged, Germany chuckled.

"I only have one piece left," Italy said, "You beat me," Leos smiled and began to gather up the pieces.

"Wanna play again?" Leos asked,

"I should start dinner, maybe after," Italy said as he reached across the game and ruffled Leos' hair. Leos watched Italy disappear into the kitchen before turning and crawling unto the sofa. He curled up with Germany, resting against his chest. Germany allowed his head to fall gently against Leos', but continued reading. Leos faked reading along, soon growing bored and turned his attention to playing with the loose threads of the robe Germany wore.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"You won't leave me, will you?" He asked, Germany was silent.

"That depends on what you mean by leaving..."

"So you will..." Leos said,

"... I have to leave tomorrow... For work... I can't always be working from home."

"Can I come with you?"

"No," Germany's voice was firm, "My work is dangerous... It is no place for a chi-" Germany cut himself off. "It just would be better for you to stay here... Italy will look after you while I am gone. I'll be back though," Germany said. Leos curled tightly against Germany.

"Papa, would you mind if I asked you another question?" Leos whimpered, Germany nodded. "First I had Papa Prussia, then I had you... But who is my first papa?"

"I don't know," Germany said,

"Why wasn't he around when mother hit me? Or burned me? Where did he go?"

"I don't know," Germany said softly, "I am your Papa now, I'll never let that happen."

"Would you ever hit me?" Leos said,

"Only if you were severely misbehaving, which you never do, so I wouldn't worry." Germany said. Leos pursed his lips and looked back at the book.

"Papa, what are you reading?"

"Something that caught my interest on the shelf, but I doubt you'd enjoy it much. It is written in Hoch Deutsche*." Germany said,

"Imma help Mr. Italy," Leos said as his wiggled from Germany's arms.

"Alright, Son," Germany said softly.

Like a line of beached whales the three of them were laid up on the floor, stomachs bloated and to the side, watching the fire. As it twisted and popped, all three lost themselves in their own thoughts. After a long day, Germany had let his hair fall into its natural place and rested his chin on his hand. His other arm wrapped protectively around Leos who's eyes were struggling to remain open. Italy watched them with a smile, slowly sneaking closer. Like a lion looking over it's young, Germany gave a protective glare but then softened his expression.

"Hug?" Germany asked,

"Hug!" Italy wrapped himself around the muscular man. "Germany should lay down more often! It's easier to hug him!" Italy announced.

"Italy," Germany said but never spoke after.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Germany stood in the entrance to the house dressed in his uniform. The array of medals and badges won from countless struggles adorn his breast. His leather belt and shoulder strap held his bullets and canteen. A gun on his back and a helmet with the eagle etched into the sides. Kneeling down he opened his arms and let Leos cling to him.

"I'll be back soon, okay? Be a good boy for Italy," He whispered,

"I love you Papa," Leos said burying his face into Germany's shoulder. Germany stood and looked at Italy.

"Hug?" Germany said while holding out his arms. Italy flung himself at his friend, crying into him.

"If its too hard just retreat okay? I showed you how to make a white flag!"

"Italy!" Germany paused and took on a softer voice, "I am counting on you," Germany smiled and turned away.

Prussia stood with the same uniform he wore back when he was a Kingdom. A sword at his side and elaborate accents on his coat, it looked ridiculous for the modern warfare. His face was serious, his eye narrowed as Germany approached.

"You sure you want to do this?" Prussia asked

"No," Germany muttered, "But its not up to me," He turned to the rows of troops lined up awaiting orders. Planes were fueling on the run ways, tanks in the back loading their cannons. The men before him cut from the finest stock, disciplined and trained in a familiar fashion.

"Attention!" The troops instantly stood at attention and focused forward. "We are going to begin the battle into Poland. Our mission, to unite those Germans lost to the Slavic land. We must take the capital Warsaw. We will march deep into the country and reclaim our fellow men." Germany paced the lines as he spoke. "You all have been briefed on your specifics before hand. Your commanders are watching and looking out for you so be sure to keep at least one radio on in the group should you need to split from the main army. Your path may change much depending on the resistance. May God bless your souls."

Germany looked down at the map of Poland. Several officials by his side, they plotted alternatives in emergencies, planned stops, and refueling stations. Once the latter was set Germany clicked on his radio.

"Air force has green to take off," He said. The roar of the propellers could be heard from the green tent the men were sitting in. Each one of the plains flew once over and then circled, heading south east toward their target. In his head he counted off each plane until he last one was too far to be heard.

"Ground forces move out," He said, the tanks roared to life and began their slow journey after the planes. The sound of thousands of men marching behind them. Germany rose to his feet and placed a helmet on his head. Prussia with him, only he drew his sword and eyed his brother.

"Ready?"  
"No," Germany said as he walked from the tent.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

By the time Germany and Prussia caught up to the troops, the battle had pushed deep into the country. A wake of death and blood marked the trail the army had taken. In the distance the distinct sound of bombs landing echo rhythmically across the country side. Germany leaned over on the dashboard, looking over the carnage. It was nothing new, just more dead than before. Prussia turned away, covering his eyes.

"Brother?" Germany asked, Prussia remained quiet. Germany looked over the dead again, nothing he saw was unusual. Surely Prussia had seen worse. Germany gestured the driver of the vehicle to move on. As they rolled into the field, Prussia turned his attention down to the floor and held his hands to the side his face, blocking the few of the dead.

"Brother, are you okay?"

"You don't see it, do you?" Prussia whispered,

"I see brave men who died for their country... Lives that, grant it, should not have been spent like this. It's horrid, but it is war." Germany reasoned.

"No, not that..." Prussia paused, "You will see one day little brother... You will see it," Prussia said nothing more and flinched from his brother's kind hand. Germany took the hint and focused on the path they were going down.

The battle was getting closer, the cries of anguish grew as they entered the destroyed city. It had been taken, victory was moments away. In the distance the troops of Poland clashed with Germany's. At its head, Poland commanded his armies, but was slowly being pushed back. Panic on his face, he caught a glimpse of Germany.

"Bastard!" He shrilled, Germany cocked his gun and aimed.

**oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

_Reviews let me know how much demand there is. ^^ _

_*Hoch Deutsch- "high" German. It is the standard dialect German, kinda like the Standard American English... Which Americans don't use anyway... Any how German probably more closely described as having accents so thick according to region that they needed to developed a form of German to be easily understood by all Germans.  
_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**- _dont own hetalia_

**note**- _im speeding events up very quickly, historically speaking things dont happen this fast (like in one day but after long times of battles). _

* * *

When Poland fell back the fighting ceased on both sides. The soldiers looked down at Poland, backing away from where he lay. Germany opened the vehicle's door and slowly walked to front, his eyes not leaving Poland's still body. The German troops pushed back the Polish enough to allow Germany some room. Poland quivered, his hands over his chest. Hatred filled his eyes as he stared up at the German, his legs attempting to kick but the pain over powered him. The bullet had missed the kill zone and lodged itself in Poland's lung. Struggling with each breath, Poland grabbed whatever was on the ground, grass stones, bits of metal, and weakly threw it at the German.

Prussia unsheathed his sword and move closer to his enemy. His knuckles turned white, eyes twitched. Years of pent rage began to seep through.

"You separated me from my brother you prick," Prussia said, "The obstacle that is you shall no longer be in the way of our unification." Before Germany could blink Prussia twisted his sword around and stabbed it into Poland's wrist, nailing him to the ground. The man arched his back in pain and writhed as he fought against the blade. Tear ran down his pallid face, blood seeping from his mouth and nose. The Polish army was quickly subdued in the background. Germany pulled back his brother from stomping his boot on the fallen country. Prussia looked up from his prey,

"Someones coming," He hissed, he ripped his sword from Poland's wrist and readied himself to fight. Poland screamed and rolled over to the side, holding his wrist. Prussia went to step forward but Germany held his arm out.

"Wait a moment," He said, from the dust came a tall man.

"Russia," Germany said, both men relaxed. The Polish army was sandwiched between German and Russian forces. Some fled from their positions to the south, but the Russian army opened fire. Russian held up his hand, his men stopped and turned their attention back to the other army.

"You made such progress in so little time," Russia smiled,

"As agreed," Germany said looking down at the injured Poland. Russia's violet eyes were calm, showing no distress as he stepped over the bodies of the fallen. His pipe in hand, he looked at the bleeding country.

"Well, it appears as if you got what you wanted," Russia said, "That just leaves me," Russia cocked his head to the side as he spoke. His friendly demeanor was unsettling to Prussia who did not sheath his sword. Germany looked over at his army,

"Attention! Draw back and recover, we have won!" Germany shouted harshly. The men did as they were told, hurrying back to the outskirts where the supplies had been set.

"NO!" Poland shouted, "Fight! Attack them! We are not done!" Poland called out to the remnants of his troops. None moved. Russia walked over to Poland, kneeling so he could be at eye level. With a gentle smile on his face he held his hand at Poland's cheek.

"It would be easier if you surrendered, you do know." He said, Poland smacked Russia's hand away.

"That was not polite," Russia said as he stood, "I only wished to give you some opportunities... Well, that's okay," He shrugged. Germany turned to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder.

"We should leave," Germany said as he urged his brother to turn around. Uneasy about turning his back, he looked over his shoulder as they went back to the camps. Russia lifted his pipe and struck Poland in the check. Prussia eyes were glued to the scene as Russia continued his assault, the sound of the pipe and bone meeting faded from a crunching to a wet slopping noise. Germany, who did not turn to look, broke his brother fixation by unnecessarily scolding a near by soldier.

"Brother, you cut a deal with that bear?" Prussia growled,

"It is wise to appease your enemies, enemies... Besides, giving him a little token will only keep our countries peaceful with one another." Germany said,

"How much is a little token?" Prussia said,

"Half, roughly,"

"Half? What about-"

"We will still be unified... The boarders have already been redrawn and Russia will go around you." Germany explained, Prussia seemed to settle a bit but his jaw was still clenched.

.................

Leos laid on his stomach, picking at the quilt draped over the couch. Italy was looking out the window at Germany's workout course, his lips frowned.

"I miss Germany already," Italy said,

"I miss Papa too," Leos agreed, folding his arms Italy bit his lip. A smile slowly crept on his face.

"But... Since Germany is gone there is some things we can do... Things he would usually say no too." Italy walked from the window to a cabinet across the room.

"Like what?" Leos asked sitting up,

"Like this," Italy opened the doors of the cabinet. Inside was a pristine home radio. Though it looked brand new, dust had settled on the knobs and it looked like no one had ever used it. Italy twisted one of the knobs and the machine screeched. Adjusting here and there, a voice slowly came through the static. Finally a clear, hurried voice of a reporter was speaking. Leos walked over to the radio and sat on the floor, Italy beside him.

"I've never listened to a radio before," Leos said,

"Oh, Germany never let me touch his radio. I only caught him once listening to it, but it just looked like he was making sure it worked... It is such a beautiful one, it is a shame it goes to waste." Italy said.

"Early this morning, German forces attack Poland and made their way into the country. Warsaw, the capital, has been bombed. Anyone within the area or surrounding country side should seek shelter. Russian troops have also begun coming from the east." The voice was that of a mans, rushed and high pitched.

"Papa is in Poland?" Leos asked,

"Yes, that is where he went today,"

"Are things going well for him?"

"Lets listen," Italy said as he moved closer.

"Poland has not yet surrendered but Germany has officially declared the region under German rule. Russia has also taken half of the country. This is a direct violation of the Versailles Treaty and English and French forces are being called to arm. Regardless, the area which Germany now occupies is now German." The words hit a cor inside Leos. His heart thumped and he clutched his chest. A pain seared through his ribs and bit at his skin. Every breath his drew was sharp and painful.

"Leos, what is wrong?" Italy asked,

"It hurts," Leos panted, "My chest..." Italy pulled Leos toward him and began to unbutton the front of the boy's shirt.

Blood. Leos was hemorrhaging from his right breast. The wound was deep, oozing steadily. In a panic Italy sprung up and grabbed unto his hair.

"Oh! What the hell? Uh, uh, bandages!" He stuttered as he paced around the house. Like a mad man Italy ran into every room and opened any container in an attempt to find first aid. Nothing. He ran back to Leos with towels from the kitchen. The boy was in tears and holding his wound.

"Um, okay, sorry!" Italy shouted before pressing the towels into the wound. Leos shrilled in agony and tried to break away but Italy held firm.

"I have to put pressure on it! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't cry!" Italy pleaded.

"I know! I h-hurts!" Leos cried.

...........

Leos sat at the counter with Italy, his chest wrapped in strips of cloth rendered from old clothing. The pain behind him, he was calm again. Italy had served him some pasta, this time he prepared it with meat and made a smiley face in the food.

"Are you mad at me?" Italy asked,

"No... You were helping me... It just hurt," Leos said as he stabbed his fork into the eye of the face.

"I'm sorry... Germany is so calm when emergencies happen... I'm the complete opposite... I'll never be strong like Germany." Italy sighed, Leos shrugged.

"You could be," He said,

"Germany is so scary in the morning training... and in the afternoon... In fact he is intimidating all the time... but then sometimes he is really nice and protects me. I don't understand sometimes," Italy said.

"Papa loves Mr. Italy," Leos said, Italy froze.

"W-what?"

"It's simple... Papa is strict because he wants Mr. Italy to be a good. In order to be a good country, you have to work really hard. If Papa didn't love Mr. Italy, he would let him be weak and take advantage of Mr. Italy. But instead, Papa lets Mr. Italy stay in his home, gives him work, and protects him just as he does with me. And Papa has said he loves me, so he must love you too." Leos explained. Italy's lower lip quivered slightly, his hand shivered. Placing his fork down he leaned over and hugged Leos.

"Hug!" Italy said,

"OOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!" Leos screamed as Italy squeezed around his bandages,

"Sorry!"

...................

Prussia sat on the ground, his legs crossed, staring into the fire. Germany next to him, Russia across, a rack between them with pot of stew simmering. Slowly, Prussia unbuttoned his shirt and took the canteen from his belt. Russia, occupied with food, didn't pay attention, but Germany watched his brother curiously. When the man opened his shirt he saw old, dried wounds across his lithe body. Proceeding to clean them, he flinched a bit.

"Got to make sure they are clean before sleeping," Prussia shrugged, "They are old... From when your boss switched... But they seem to be healing." He assured. Yawning, Prussia let himself fall back and rest, his eye to the heavens.

"East?" Germany said,

"Hm?"

"I have a question..."

"Shoot,"

"Who is Leos' father?" Prussia was silent and turned his back to his brother.

"Why do you want to know? It doesn't matter," Prussia mumbled,

"Leos was asking before I left... I brushed his question off, but I must admit I am curious myself," Germany said. Prussia bit his lower lip and snorted.

"Some older member of our family..."

"Who," Germany asked more persistently.

"This isn't an appropriate time to speak of this," Prussia said, his eyes quickly shooting to Russia. German's brow creased and he stared at his brother.

"Did you father him?" Prussia shot up at the suggestion and placed his hand on his sword. His jaw clenched, as he glared at his brother.

"What is your fixation?!" Prussia asked, "Do you really want to know? Huh?!" Prussia shouted, Russia looked up from his food.

"Yes,"

..................

_who is Leos father? Reviews help me gauge the demand of the story :D thank you for all of the wonderful reviews so far._


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**-_ I dont own Hetalia_

**Note-**_ there are some things I am assuming here in this chapter. 1) Germany was once HRE (not proven but probable). 2) HRE became an adult eventually, because generally powerful countries are depicted as adults._

****

Germany and Prussia stared each other down a moment. Russia looked on with great pleasure, eating and drinking as the show before him unfolded. Prussia sudden and intense aggravation put his brother off a bit. With a growl, Prussia turned his back sighed.

"Excuse us, Russia," Prussia said as he walked off into the inter camp. Germany followed, growing more agitated by the minute. Finally his brother stopped walking when they reached the middle of the charred battle field where just that morning farms were. Taking a minute to take in the grey, flat land Prussia folded his arms.

"Germany... We are brothers... Grant it, I am by far older and more awesome but we share the same blood. Where did it come from? Do you think," Prussia asked,

"Well... I am not sure. I have no memories of life before you, brother."

"How convenient..." Prussia said, "Well, Leos was fathered by a mighty Empire that got too big for his own good. He fathered Leos with disgruntled whore. I cut him down to size and from the battle... But the funny thing is, when a nation falls, there is one to take it's place. There is a never ending cycle of nations, death and re-birth, their energy doesn't just disappear. My brother was the manifestation of his rebirth, if not a carbon copy... He wasn't meant to disapear. "

"I'm lost," Germany said,

"You are Holy Roman! Leos was born from Holy Roman Empire and some bitch who's hatred for it's expansion was taken on the boy! He is, by blood, YOURS!" Prussia harsh voice echoed and he startled himself with his tone. Germany was frozen.

"You... You never told me? All those times I asked and asked?..."

"It was for your own good," Prussia said, "Why is it a big deal? Why does it matter that Leos' father is you? Why?" Prussia asked,

"You told me Leos was Prussian!"

"And you couldn't see the wholes in that story? Hmph, your loosing you touch brother," Prussia said.

"What about... How did... ehh?" Germany covered his face. Sighing, Prussia walked to his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll answer them all, in good time... But right now there is a war going on and besides... Does it matter?" Prussia voice was gentler, more normal.

"...No, I guess it doesn't," Germany agreed,

"You should be proud, look at how strong you are. You far exceeded my expectations! But that is cause I raised you so good!" Prussia swiftly stole the hat from Germany's head and placed it on his own. He stuck his tongue out in a childlike fashion and crossed his eyes. Germany tried to snatch back his cap but Prussia dodged him.

"It appears as if I am still faster!" Prussia said, "All those muscles are going to weight you down!" He taunted as he ran from his brother. For a moment, Germany forgot his position in the war, reality, and time. He gave chase to his brother, finally cornering him by a tank. Prussia had hurled himself unto the roof of the machine.

"Prussia! Prussia! Prussia!" He chanted, slightly mocking his younger brother. Germany was almost on the tire when a solider ran up to him.

"Ludwig!" He froze, reality cam crashing back. He was at war, in a camp... and chasing his brother around as if he was a child. Quickly he straightened himself up.

"What is solider?" He asked, a slight blush of embarrassment spread across his face.

"Telegram," He handed over the pale paper. Germany's eyes fell to the little card and smiled. Prussia dropped the cap back unto Germany's head.

"From home?" He guessed,

"Yes,"

Germany smiled, a warmth grew inside his chest and he slid the card into his pocket. Prussia jumped down from the tank, his eyes demanding to know what the paper said. Germany's hand lingered a bit on his breast pocket before turning to his brother.

"So does it matter?" Prussia asked,

"No, it really doesn't... I don't care what I was, It is what I am... And this unexplainable conundrum has blessed me..." Germany trailed off. Prussia smirked, and patted his brother on the back.

"Now your getting it... But we have a more pressing issue than that..." Prussia tone dipped off as he glared at Russia, who sat happily eating his food.

"He's fine," Germany said,

"Something about him I just don't like... The man ain't right. I mean, he's a *Slav! Austria may appease him some, but he has always been too close for comfort..." Prussia said,

"He's no more abnormal than you," Germany said,

"What's that suppose to mean?" Prussia yelped,

Leos sat on the edge of a stool, leaning over on the counter just far enough to see what Italy was cooking. The dough Italy made was being rolled out into tiny circles and then topped with a mixture of soft cheeses. Folding over each of the doughs he revealed his masterpiece of ravioli. Leos reached across the counter and snatched the closest one to inspect it further. He pressed lightly into the dough, scratching slightly. Before Italy could ask, Leos turned the pasta around to reveal what he had done. A smiley face was etched into the dough.

"Its cute! Lets do that to them all!" Italy divided the pieces up between them and each worked on their own. Some took on faces of joy and others scorn, there was a cat on one, and Italy had somehow managed to draw a plate of pasta. Watching as the food boiled, Leos was grandly entertained at the ravioli fought for a place onto. Italy was to the side, simmering the sauce.

"Do you think Papa got our message?"

"I don't know, I hope so. He will definitely get it by tomorrow." Italy said as he took the pot from the stove. "Could you set the table Leos?" Italy asked, Leos turned around and slid them from the drying rack. Italy had not been paying attention when Leos set the table until he was ready to put dinner on their plates. Three sets of silverware were put out, along with three glasses. Even the same plates and pattern as Germany had always set before. Germany's empty seat at the head of the table went without being served, Italy didn't comment on Leos' table setting either. Instead an awkward silence hung between them.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Germany laid out on his cot, in his hands the telegraph. It wasn't the first he had ever received, not by far. But it was the first from home, from a family. Germany understood why these bits of paper an ink where so important to the soldiers, how a warm chest ready to burst with joy made the horrors of everyday warfare bearable. He had read the note perhaps three dozen times, he stopped keeping count. It's words etched into his brain.

_Dear Papa,_

_Come home soon please. Be safe and don't hurt yourself. Mr. Italy is taking good care of me and we are following everything you are doing. I love you Papa and all you do. So does Mr. Italy. If Papa Prussia is there tell him I say hi. Mr. Italy and me are going to cook you a big meal when you get home!_

_Love,_

_ Leos & Italy_

Germany imaged Leos' fragile voice speaking to him. He began to worry over little things, was he washing, did he change his underwear, brush his teeth, eat right, have his shoes tied? He shook the thoughts from his head and tried to remember where he was. Leos could survive a night without brushing his teeth or taking a bath but perhaps not without a stronger nation.

Leos sat on the tire swing. The sun wasn't up, the sky had just begun to tint lighter. Crickets chirping in the yard and the occasional squirrel was all that distracted him from his thoughts. The morning dew had frozen slightly, making it unpleasant to touch the ground. Still in his night clothing, he shivered occasionally but let his thoughts warm him. He contemplated how much trouble he might get in should he be discovered outside, but being inside was becoming a painful experience. It smelled to much like Germany. That musky, masculine, odor that comforted him so made him yearn to be surrounded by his Papa's thick arms. It was torture. So in the cold he sat on his swing and watched the sky slowly change colors.

From far in the woods, down the dirt road, came a popping rumble. A sound that had seared itself into Leos' brain. A car, but not just any car. A military issued vehicle, its roar distinct. Panic struck him, was war going to break out here? On his front lawn? He pushed the ridiculous idea from his mind. The car was getting closer, bouncing the the many pot holes and ruts in the road.

"Papa...?" He breathed. The black machine hurled from the forests and ground to a halt in front of his house. Leos slipped from his swing, cringing as his feet touched the cold earth. His face and hands were numb from the bitter chill of winter already, but his chest was aflame as he slowly crept forward. He saw a man get out of the back of the machine, his blonde hair messy and fallen. For a moment Leos froze, fear gripped him. Was this stranger safe? The man turned as the car left and Leos instantly cried as the man's blue eyes feel upon the boy. With his arms out, Leos ran to him, the solider kneeling and taking hold of the tiny boy as he leapt unto his chest. Leos' sobs were loud, his voice cracking in attempt to speak. Germany just nodded and held his son, rubbing his back.

"Shhhhhhh," Germany soothed, his voice as gentle as ever, a hint of exhaustion in it. "I'm here, it's okay. Shhhhhhhhhh, come on lets get you warm." He whispered into the boy's ear. As he stood he pulled Leos up with him, letting the child wrapped his limbs around his fatigued framed.

The house was still and silence, still dark from the morning. Germany pulled the blanket from the couch and bundled his son up. Tired as he was, he refused to set him down. Leos was still crying softly into his shoulder, wiping his tears on his green uniform. Germany sat him on the counter took the nearest rag to clean the boy's face, his large hand still holding Leos.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Germany asked, Leos nodded. Taking some eggs that had been set out, Germany quickly heated a pan. As they cooked, he sliced off some pieces of dried meat that hung behind the sink and finely chopped them. Mixing the egg and meat together he topped it with a bit of cheese and folded it over. In all, it was very little. It wasn't enough to satisfy Leos' crying stomach let alone the adult working male. Germany quickly searched for other things but found that the bulk of basic ingredients were too low to even try and make something. Even the potatoes in the store room would only be enough for the night.

"Did Italy feed you while I was gone?" Germany asked,

"Yea, but we ate a lot... sorry,"

"No, its fine, but I'll just have to stop by the market later." Germany said as he returned to his plate of food. Germany sat next to his son, his fatigue was getting the better of him, although he wanted nothing more than spend time with Leos, sleep sounded tempting. For once, Germany left the dishes in the sink and went up stairs, Leos attached to his leg, and took off his uniform. In his one piece underwear he fell unto the bed. Italy was still out cold. Leos climbed between them, settling against his father. Germany had just enough strength to wrap his arm around the fragile life beside him.

**oooooooooooo**

_Yes this side of the story has some holes but they will be patched up in the next chapter. I will be balancing war with fluff so it doesn't become a overly dramatic. Next chapter will deal with Germany's special magazines. Reviews let me know the demand for the story, please review ^^. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews so far :D_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer-**_Don't own Hetalia_

**Note-** _Thank you all the wonderful reviews :D There will be a note at the end explaining a few historical things. Last chapter I put * next to Slav. I meant to explain "slavization" (sp?). Gilbert is siding with Ludwig's boss as far as favoring Germans. Think about where poor Gilbert lives, right under Ivan's lead pipe of doom D8_

****

Because Italy had planned an elaborate meal and Germany had to still finish a mountain of paper work Leos was left to his own devices. After spending most of the day on the swing, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick, and attempting to climb a tree he decided to find some sort of inside entertainment. After shedding the layers of clothing Germany had painstakingly dressed him in he went to the living room to see if any of the old checkers had been laying around. Unable to find the game stared at the fire a bit. He sat in its warm embrace, his one piece underwear clung to his wrists and ankles but draping elsewhere. Taking one of the pokers he prodded the flames, his clothing hanging. From his office Germany spotted him and shot up from his desk.

"Leos," He said, "That is very dangerous, please put it back and don't play with the fire." His voice was stern, but a hint of worry softened it. Leos did as he was told and began to look around the room, bored yet again.

"Leos, there may be some old toys in the attic from when I was young. You can try and find them," Germany suggested as he signed a stack of papers. Leos trotted off and bounded up the stairs. Opening the door to the attic he searched around for a light. His fingers twirled around a grimy old string, he yanked and a light flickered on.

The attic was small and cluttered with boxes. About the only room that wasn't pristine in it's organization. Dust had coated the cardboard and old pictures and paintings had been left skewn about. Some had labels on them, while others were tapped shut in such a frantic looking manner that Leos dare not open it. In the far back of the room Leos came upon a box that was marked 'old stuff' that didn't look too well sealed. Working at the edges of the tape he peeled back the seal and flipped open the the folds.

Nothing but books and magazines, a frown dipped on the boy's face. He pulled a random one from the tightly packed box and dropped it. He heart thumped as he stared at the cover. A cold chill came over him, and a voice inside him warned that he may not be allowed in this box. Having no idea what the material was before, he felt curious but some how fearful. The cover itself posed a series of questions that whipped around Leos' brain.

The was a woman on the cover, a whip in hand, nude and bent over a chair with her back end hitched up. The cover was bright, glossy, and even with obvious use it had been carefully kept. Leos looked back into the book, only to find similar ones.

"Leos are you okay up her-" Germany had frozen on the stairs. His jaw dropped opened, his son rummaging through his collection of magazines.

"L-Le-Leos..." Germany's peripheral vision faded to black, his focus only on the boy with a hardcore porn magazine in his hands. Felling the blood drain from his face he tried to regain composure. Rushing over to him he swiftly picked up his collection and fumbled to get the box closed.

"Th-those magazines are not for you," Germany said as he finally got the box shut. Turning back to Leos he notice a magazine in his hands, looking at it as causally as a newspaper. Leos cocked his head as he looked at the images,

"Do you like women?" Leos asked, Germany plucked the paper from his son's and and once again popped the box open.

"Of course I like women, I am a man." Germany said tried to hide his embarrassment. Leos was silent for a moment and looked at the floor boards.

"Well... I hate them," He hissed, Germany stiffened. The voices in his head got way too loud and he lost track of how much time had past before he turned to face Leos.

"Don't say that," Germany said resting his hands on the boy's shoulders, "Don't ever let those words pass your lips again." Leos curled away from his father,

"But... I do hate them, I hate them, how could you like them?" He asked,

"Don't speak like that." Germany's voice was solid, Leos coward away from him. "Come on, lets find something for you downstairs." Leos obediently followed Germany down the stairs. Germany face was blushed a bright red. The millions of sounds in his skull began to settle when he felt a tug at his sleeve.

"I'm sorry Papa," Leos whispered, Germany slid his hand down the boys back and patted him.

"It's okay," He said

_Wait, what would a father do if his son stated something so bold? I should question him, probably. But what if he is one of those homosexuals? What if... No, they would take him away... Wait, the mental trauma, his mother, that must be it. He probably doesn't hate women per say but just hasn't been treated well by them so far... Hmmm, well, maybe if I explain it to him he will understand._

"Son, come sit with me in my office." He said as they rounded the corner into the living room. He sat Leos in a chair next to his and closed the door. He began his paperwork, trying to set a causal atmosphere before questioning his son. Leos kicked his legs out in a swinging motion,watching them rise and fall.

"Leos, why did you say you hate women?" Germany asked, Leos shrugged,

"They are mean," He answered,

"How many women were mean to you?"

"One,"

"You mother?" Leos nodded, "Well, there are many good women in the world too." Germany said. Leos was quiet. "I know, at the next world conference, lets introduce you to Hungary, she is a very kind young lady." Germany suggested.

"They are all mean," Leos said, "Every one of them in that house watched... They turned away as she did those things. They could have helped, but they didn't." It was the second time Leos had acid in his voice. Hate. No word could describe it better and Germany twitched when Leos' voice dipped low.

"What did they do to you?" Germany bit his lip, he hadn't thought of what he was saying. Leos' leg dangled and he sat silent in his chair. Simply shaking his head he went back to kicking his feet out. Germany sighed.

The family budget laid before him, staring him down like a Frenchmen and Germany wanted to strangle it. Leos' laughter could be heard from inside, looking out the window Germany watched him draw faces on the stones with chalk and line them up. His face was glowing with happiness as he arranged the rocks, Germany was thankful he was entertained so easily. Turning back to the paper he cringed. Even with his well off salary, most if went to food and taxes. With all the rationing it was hard to get extras beside the basics. Leos ate almost as much as Italy, Germany himself ate double what Italy did and still he occasionally had hunger nipping at his stomach.

Meat was the first thing to go, if lucky twice a month he may be able to indulge his family with pickled pork meat or wurst. That would save about seven Marks a month. Cheese was next, something Italy wouldn't be happy about. But five Marks would be something to save. Next came down to the staples. Rice was far too expensive now, already largely an import crop, gone. It was cut to potato dishes, pea dishes, soups, bread flours, milk, and any other native vegetable that was cheap.

Sighing he folded the paper and went to the kitchen where Italy was putting the finishing touches on his meal.

"Italy, we need to talk about the budget," Germany said,

"Oh? Is the mark already being used as paper weight?"

"Wh- No! We are spending too much. The war has but some restraints on food rations and this family is eating a lot of my salary up. From now on, I'm afraid it will be blander dishes. Meat will be rare and I am sorry but no more cheese." Germany announced, Italy's face dropped,

"But, what will we put on the pasta?"

"Oh... That is another thing... Please don't get fancy with the pasta. Make it yourself at home with simple tomato sauce. All this wine, cream, its all costing a fortune."

"What if we grow a 'Victory Garden'?" Italy asked,

"Excuse me?"

"America does it! They buy seeds and plant home gardens. It is just enough for the family or to lift some of the burden of the budget. We can grow tomatoes and peas and peppers and-"

"Italy, its winter... The ground is frozen." Germany's logic squashed Italy's excitement.

"Right now bread is about 8 cents, eggs 5 cents a piece, and other vegetable varying from 3 to 7 cents a pound*. Kidney meat is already 38 cents a pound raw, it shrinks in half when its cooked, barely enough for a topping! If we want ground meat for your pasta it is also about 38 cents per pound. It's madness the prices. The cheapest I can get from the market is tough beef for boiling in soup with a bone for 31 cents but if I get that we must crack open the bone and use the very marrow with in. We are going to have to be resourceful this winter, nothing can go to waste."

"Yes, Captain!" Italy said

The three of them had abandoned all tables manners and regard for politeness as they woofed down the meal. It was the first real wholesome meal Germany had since his arrival home. While Italy had made three pounds of pasta, expecting some left overs, all was consumed rapidly. Germany found himself licking his plate clean, as did Leos. Italy watched amused, wondering if it was really that good or if they were truly that hungry. The basket of bread, too, was being devoured at an alarming rate.

"I am going to miss butter on my bread," Italy said,

"It tastes just as good," Germany said through his full mouth. Italy shrugged,

"Sweet, butter, this is the last time we meet." He mumbled as he took at bite. Just as Germany was about to scold him for complaining, for at least they had food, a knock came to the door. Excusing himself, Germany walked to the front, Leos twisting around to see.

In the doorway was a man with another telegram. Accepting it, Germany looked puzzled. He had never seen such a long telegram before. Why had the persona simply not called? He began to read it and stiffened. Slowly his jaw opened, his eye twitched. The aura changed in the house, stress pulsing from the blond man.

"Um... Germany?" Italy squeaked,

"I'm dead!" Germany exclaimed, "Why of all times now? This is going to be impossible!"

"Ummm, Germany?"

"I-I have to start preparing! There is not much time! Oh, how on Earth?"

"It appears as if Germany is having a meltdown," Italy said to Leos,

"Papa lost his vital regions?" He asked,

"I think he lost is Reason Regions..." Italy mumbled as he watched Germany go into an uncharacteristic panic.

"Germany, what is wrong? Ve-"

"... I got invited to dinner... Well, no... I am ordered to attend a dinner at the Fuhrer's private estate..." Germany trembled.

"Isn't that an honor?"

"Are you completely out of touch? Everything must be perfect! He ordered Leos come as well, oh we need to get a suit and tie, a gift, some new socks, a-"

"Germany!" Italy snapped his friend back into reality. "Don't get worked up over it, its just a dinner. Besides, if your boss wanted to lace into you, he'd have called you into his office right? So this could turn out well."

"Well, It could be an opportunity to get to know him better... Perhaps when he see how hard I work he will lighten up a bit. Maybe I can even help improve some of his plans. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to make things better." Germany held his chin and began to think, already debating on what he would change about his government.

"That is the Germany I know!"

"Still... How am I going to afford a new suit for Leos. Socks, shoes, I have to go recalculate the budget." Germany said walking back to his office.

A few minutes later Germany laid out before them, not a budget outline, but a gun. His rifle. In the metal was etched the eagle and hakenkruez. The wood, though scuffed from battle, was bright in contrast with the barrel.

"Instead of cutting essentials from our diet, I will provide them through hunting. There are plenty of deer and boar in these woods and one animal could provide pounds of meat, fat and hide." Germany announced. Leos stared at the weapon, his face blank. Italy sighed,

"But the cute little-"

"They are food," Germany cut Italy off, "Meat in your pasta, fat to cook in, wurst to eat, and bones for soup. Any extra by products will be added to the wast heap soil and turned in preparation for a garden this spring. Any trophies will be sold."

"I guess it sounds reasonable," Italy agreed. "But isn't that the gun you fight with? Aren't those bullets expensive?"

"The army foots the bill. Besides, I'll do my best to preform a one shot one kill and not waste."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Once they agreed hunting would be their way of survival, Germany had set out all his gear for the morning. Leos watched as his father arranged his boots, weapon, coat, knifes, and bullets. Germany felt his son's eyes on his back.

"Something wrong Leos?" He asked, Leos came to his side and wrapped himself around his leg.

"Don't shoot any baby ones." He said, "Or Daddy ones, okay?" Leos asked. Germany laid his large hand the boys head.

"I won't," Germany said as he picked him up. The ease at which Germany could pick Leos up disturbed him some. The boy was too light. Yet, while covered, his face showed no signs of starvation. Always happy and round. His body however was bone, and Germany could feel the weak skeleton wiggle in his hands. The chest expanding with every laugh, his tiny ribs pressing against Germany's large soft palms.

_I will kill for your survival_ He thought. Leos wrapped himself around his father's muscles and hung on as Germany playfully swung him around.

"Alright, Alright, I have to go to the bathroom. Why don't you set out a checker game? I'm sure Italy would love to play.

Germany had just situated himself before the toilet. Just has his bladder relaxed the door slammed open. Twisting his head around his face blushed.

"Italy! You don't just walk in while someone is taking a piss!" He scolded,

"Ve, I have to pee too,"

"Hold it!" Germany exclaimed as he tried to cover himself. Turning, his clothing at his ankles restricted him.

"Italy!"

"Ger-Germany... What is that?" Italy asked,

"My dick! Now leave me to my business!"

"No, no... On the back of your thigh..." Italy crept closer. Germany fumbled with himself and final got back in his underwear. Italy was right against him,

"This looks painful, you didn't feel this?" Italy questioned,

"I had a little pain in my leg, but not severe enough to worry about... Why, is it that bad?" Germany asked in a softer tone. Italy moved the skin on Germany's leg. It looked like a sore, large and crusted over. Roughly the size of a fist, it was superficial but looked infected.

"It needs a bandage and Iodine for sure, where did you get it?" Italy asked,

"Inner political issue probably... But never mind, will you help me bandage it? I can't reach back there." Germany said. Italy nodded as he opening the cabinet. Germany leaned against the wall, letting Italy work on him. He felt the singeing of the iodine pour into his sore, then the clothe patting it dry. Resting his forehead against the wall, guilt bubbled in his chest.

"Fe-Feliciano... I apologize," He said, Italy looked up his brown eyes wide.

"Why?"

"I've been far to hard on you... You didn't deserve it. I am thankful, Feliciano, that you are here to help with Leos... To cook, to tend the house while I am gone... To tend to me," Germany said. Italy stood back a moment.

"That is what friends do Ludwig, Ve, you haven't many friends?"

"No,"

"That is very sad. Ludwig is a very fun friend to have and very kind, the others are missing out!" Italy announced happily. "And Leos is a pleasure. It's scary when he is hurt, but for the most part he is easy, so don't worry. Besides, that radio of your kept him entertained for hou-"

"You... You opened the radio?" Ludwig asked,

"Well, yes..."

"..."

"..."

"... Italy, I don't believe you want to know what is going on. If you turn on the radio, you may want to change it to a more... Nicer program," He suggested. "Anway, I am going to go... Clean the attic, don't disturb me..." Germany blushed.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leos was stuck to his father's hand as he lead him down old streets to a back row of shops. The area was largely poor and in need of repairs. Many of the homes looked empty, victims of vandalism and weather abuse. Windows were knocked out of some homes while others boarded up. Germany had taken the time to put on his uniform and weapon when they left. His large boots stepping heel to toe, his posture perfect. Leos looked incredibly weak next to him, bundled in his tiny coat and gloved with a scarf wrapped around his head.

Some of the shops, too, were empty. All of the abandoned ones had the windows smashed and interior looted of all valuable coppers, metals, and wood. The shops were not those Germany usually went too. He had driven far to come here, past miles of country side and forest. This town seemed depressed, but the reason for their visit became clear once Leos looked into the still open shops.

Price. This area had cheaper goods and with the car Germany could buy in bulk. The list of goods and their prices were displayed in most of the windows. Some even said no ration stamps needed. Certainly a seedy area, but none the less serving it's purpose. One of the shops was a clothing store which was quiet active.

Upon entering Leos' jaw dropped, amazed at the sheer mass of clothing. All sizes, all types, shoes, socks, coats, anything one could think of. The old pawn and thrift shop of their home town paled in comparison to the selection. Many people were searching through things, mostly winter coats. Germany lead him to a small section and was looking through some suits. He held one up occasionally to Leos' small frame and would often put it back. Finally he found one, very old, but nice looking suit. Deciding some minor alterations would cause it to fit well enough, Germany selected it. The whole time his hand did not let go of his son's hand, and it became awkward as he juggled the clothing.

At the counter they waited in line, in front of them was a group of soldiers buying some canned goods and plates. The food and delicate items were kept behind the counter on shelves which the clerk strained to reach. Next to the register was an old scale, which one of the soldiers dropped bits of shiny metal on. Leos leaned over a bit to look around his father. Gold, shaped in tiny oval pieces. Mixed in were some bands and rings with the stones missing. After some adding and subtracting of the gold the scale fell even and the clerk took the 'currency' and handed over the food and plates. Leos tugged at his father's sleeve.

"How come they pay in gold while we pay in marks?" He asked,

"Shhhh," Germany soothed, his eyes down cast.

"Good evening sir," The clerk said,

"Good evening,"

"My what a rare sight it is to a father and son about these days, especially a soldier with his child." The clerk said as he tallied the items up, "Are you going to be a soldier when you grow up?" He asked, Leos hid further behind his father. Germany put a hand on his son's back,

"Answer him," He said, Leos looked back at the clerk, his silvery eyes made the clerk twitch at the boy's unsettling stare.

"Yes sir, I want to be just like Papa," Right after Leos spoke he slink behind Germany. The clerk smiled and handed him the clothing.

"Might you know where to find some baked good or sweets? I have a friend who really deserves something special." Germany said,

"Down about too blocks, make a left and go to the end of the street. That baker had some pastry filled with custard. Quiet expensive but they should still be there. He also makes cheap breads and such."

"Thank you si-" Germany was cut off by loud crash. Leos jumped and dug his nails into his father's leg. The clerk went pale, his mouth open. Germany's eyes drifted to a closet door that had been nailed shut. The bottom of the door was chipped in the center, large enough to fit a foot under. The haggard old wood was scuffed, dust coated, and looked untouched.

Germany let go of Leos' hand and gestured him to stay. He stood in front of the door, eying it. From the little bit of light the pooled from the glass window he saw the flash of an eye and hair. The clerk was stiff, pretending like everything was casual, however he fail miserably. Quivering, his face went white and his eyes widened in horror. Germany calm walked back to the clerk, leaned over the counter so his lips were at the clerks ear.

"Get them out of here or I will report you," He breathed,

"Y-your n-not going to k-kill m-m-"

"No," Germany answered, cutting off the stuttering man. Politely Germany smiled and acted as if nothing was wrong. He gently held Leos' hand and walked from the store. Right after, the clerk locked the doors and flip the sign to closed. Drawing the blinds down to conceal his activity.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Meeeow," The cat sat behind the sink in the window watching Italy wash potatoes. The man's hands worked quickly to peel and sort them. Germany was a fine cook, but often his meals were lacking creativity. The night before was potatoes with a piece of roasted venison. Italy offered to just take over the kitchen even when Germany was home. So he planned the 'menu' each day to be something slightly different. Tonight he would simmer potatoes and then fry them in oil and herbs, side it with Venison ribs that were seared then roasted and an array of cheap vegetables, all he had to do was garish with a light gravy.

"You know Kitty, we are really lucky. Most families are starving but because we live away from the city Germany can hunt for our food. Ve, he is a good provider. I worry though, he may over work himself. He has only been home a couple days from battle. The dinner at his bosses house must be stressing him out... I wish I were strong, or more helpful, but it seems even if I try I just make things worse..." Italy sighed, "But at least I can keep his belly full! You know what they say, 'an army marches on their stomachs!'" The cat meowed again after Italy's speech. "So really, I have the most important job!" The cat grumbled as Italy held up a spoon drenched in gravy. It's eyes yearned for the thick, meaty, sauce.

"No, you have a job to do too. Go mousing if your hungry," The cats ears feel to the side, standing it leapt forth and stole the spoon from Italy's hand. Taking off with the spoon, Italy gave chase for a moment before being drawn back to the boiling pot of water that was over flowing at the rim.

While the vegetable we set in the fridge Italy monitored the ribs, basting them in between his housework chores. His years in under Austria's dominating glare had now come in handy. His pride would be in making the home, not on the battlefield. Italy of course thought this alternative role was better, who would wish to be among the carnage and horrors of war? Not anyone, but most of all he.

From the corner of his eye he saw the cat wander back in, its rough tongue gliding over its muzzle. The cat sat and began to groom itself, content as could be. Italy silently stalked up behind it, planning his payback. A quick hug, no harm done, he planned. But Italy stiffened as he looked to what was sprawled next to the cat.

"Ewww, Kitty!" Italy whined, a sparrow was torn apart all over the hardwood floors. The feathers as blanketed the surrounding area, and the wounds were seeping fluids on the floor. Italy hurried to get some towels and water.

"Your making my life harder Kitty! Go hunt some mice!" Italy moaned while cleaning up. The cat merely watched him, pleased as he could be. The smell hit Italy's nose and he gagged a bit. He picked up the body of bird and proceeded to toss it outside the home when he noticed something.

The bird was no fresh kill, this animal was rotting. The odor permeated from the carcass, foul and pungent. And though the cat may have roughed it up a bit, the also would have eaten his own kill. Why on earth the cat would drag long dead things into the house? Italy shook the question from his mind and tossed the body as far into the woods as he could throw.

Returning to his work, Italy felt the stare of the cat on him.

"You know Kitty, we haven't seen much you lately... I thought we would see you often since the dogs left for training... Though, Germany didn't seem too pleased with his dogs being taken." Italy shrugged. The sound of the cat's feet pattered away as the car pulled up.

"Germany!" Italy squealed.

oooooooooooo

Italy was laid out on the couch, a small treat in his hands. Fried dough with sugar, simple but pleasing.

"Thank you for thinking of me Germany!" Italy said, "Does Leos want a bite?" He ooffered some to the boy but he shook his head.

"I couldn't get him to take one either," Germany said. "We have to fatten you up quick, I should hunt some boar or an animal with more fat so I can add it to your food. I have a feeling my boss isn't going to be please with your weight."

"I'm too thin?" Leos asked,

"Yes, son, but we will fix that..."

"Your boss doesn't like thin people?"

"No, its just... He wants to see you fit, but with all the medical problems its very hard to keep you healthy. I just hope he understands..." Germany placed his hand over his face.

"Germany's going to get chewed out by his boss!" Italy said, "And I'll there documenting it all-"

"There is no way your coming with me," Germany glared from between his fingers, "I would be fired the minute you opened your mouth. You stay here and guard the home front."

"Yes sir!"

ooooooooooooooooo

Germany had been fretting all morning. His knuckles were white, face pale, Italy though he saw him shiver. Today was the dinner date with his boss. Germany had called Leos into the bathroom and was struggling to get his thick hair into something "presentable". He attempted to comb it over to fit his boss's style, but the boy's hair was far to thick. His failed effort resulting in Leos looking up at him with a sarcastic look, no words need to be said. Germany started over. This time, he tried to comb it back like his own, which only produced a spiked American rebel looking hair do. Again, he started over. Leos sat patiently as he hair was being tugged and pulled, counting the tiles on the floor. Germany mumbled some inappropriate phrases under his breath as he worked with the brush.

"Germany!... Oh, he's not going like that is he?" Italy said,

"Whats wrong with it?" Germany growled,

"He looks like a... I don't even know how to describe it." Italy said cocking his head to one side, "Why don't you just let me do it? Relax a bit Germany," Italy said taking the comb from him.

"Italy..."

"Shoo!" Italy gestured,

"Don't mess up,"

Italy presented a dressed and groomed boy before Germany that he didn't recognize. If it weren't for the metal sheen of the eyes, Germany would've sworn he swapped Leos out for a more manageable youth. His hair was parted in the middle and combed even to either side of his face. The back was combed against his neck and held in place with a touch of water. Dressed in his suit, which Italy had taken in a bit, he didn't look any different than any other German boy.

"Italy... He looks great..." Germany said,

"Of course he does! Now, if the back fluffs out just run over it with a damp hand, but it should stay." He said, "Good luck you two!"

"Thank you Italy..." Germany said as he took Leos' hand. Italy waved them off as they drove down the road. The cat sitting at his side glaring down after the car.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

_*Homosexuals were often killed and neighbors were told to report any suspicious activity to authorities. About 5,000 people were killed. (Numbers vary)_

_*During the war soldiers often traded the belongings of prisoners for supplies. Large Jewish communities were pillaged and their objects resold except for things that could be recycled or used by the soldiers. At this point in the story Death camps, work camps, etc. are not well established but Ghettos and deportations are in effect. _

_*A the time s German "Pound" is 1 tenth less than than an American pound. I didn't pull those prices out of my ass XD, they should be pretty accurate for the time in a major city, although smaller towns may have been more/less expensive.  
_

_*Remember to R&R :D thank you for all the wonderful reviews_


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer-** _I don't own hetalia_

**Note-** _Thank you for all the wonderful reviews :D Historical notes will be at the bottom so if there is material you do not know/recognize most of it has an explanation at the bottom ^^.** Hitler will make a large appearance. **In this chapter._

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_

Germany fidgeted over every last detail. They stood before the grand home that was perched on a cliff, over looking the southern mountains. The pine forest hair of the mountains was dusted with snow, ice clung to the follicles of green needles. The home was made of white stone, a grand stair case leading to the glass doors. The day was bright, reflecting the sun away and into Leos' eyes. Germany final smoothed over whatever imperfection he found and took hold of his son's hand. The steps were wide and long, Leos struggled to keep up with his father's long gait. Gently, he helped lift some of Leos' weight to try and aid him with the awkward steps.

Germany's hand gripped the rope and pulled, a bell chimed inside the grand house. He watched his reflection for a moment, realizing how horrified he looked. Tightening his grip, his leather gloves creaked. Sighing he tried to relax. An officer answered the door, hailing was automatic and they both stood straight. After the greeting each of them smiled and the officer escorted them to the back patio.

Germany had recognized some people right away but there was an array of mystery faces. Women were gathered off to the side talking and sipping from crystal glasses. Between the rift was a well decorated table. From the other far corner laughter was heard, a child. Leos turned and saw a young boy and a girl playing in the grass. Germany urged Leos with his hand but the boy only gripped tighter.

"Go play, look they are waving to you." He whispered to his son, Leos peeked over his solider to see that indeed the children were eagerly waving. One was a girl, most likely younger than Leos, had blonde hair was braided and tied with white ribbons to match her dress. The boy was shorter and a bit wider built. His pale hair was combed to the side, suspenders keeping his pants in place and a dress shirt with bow pooled over the belt.

Suddenly all the men and women stood and faced the door, collectively their shoes came together their hand shot out. Germany as well. Leos looked behind to see even the children held this position. In the door was man in tan suit. His dark hair meticulously combed, his eyes firm and face slightly aged. Meekly, Leos copied the same gesture the rest of them did and heard his father sigh. The man nodded and all the guest returned to their respective conversations. The man walked over to Leos and Germany.

"Heil mein Fuehrer," Germany was instantly upright and stiff again. Robotic in nature, this was so engrained that when his free arm slammed to his side, Leos went along with it. With his hand uncomfortably jammed in Germany's and into his hard thigh muscle, Leos copied his father again. The man nodded and again a relaxation came over Germany.

When a smiled cracked on the man's face the tension faded. Leos wiggled his fingers free from his father's grasp and held his sleeve cuff instead.

"A lovely day, is it not Ludwig?" His voice struck a cord in Leos, the same energetic tone and dominating pitch as the visitor months ago.

"It is a beautiful day. Such a grand home you have," Germany complimented,

"Thank you, thank you..." The man said, his eyes fell down to Leos. Germany lowered himself to Leos' level and whispered, "Heil mein Fuhrer,"

"Heil mein Fuhrer," Leos' voice was barely audible. The man bent to so he was eye level with Leos.

"Good day little man, are you Leos?"

"Yes si-, Mein Fuhrer," Leos stumbled over his words. Germany cursed himself for not teaching the proper ways to address his boss before hand.

"How are you today?"

"Very well, thank you... And you?"

"Very happy. Is this your father?" The man had a smile on his face all the time as he looked over to Ludwig.

"Yes, that's my Papa," Leos smiled. The leather on Germany's hands wrinkled as his hand relaxed. Leos was being quiet open, his shyness though prevalent was well under control. Leos felt a warmth within his chest. The man had the same gravitational pull as the first day he peeked from the window to see him. However there was also a sharp jab at his spine the shot from his heel to his head each time their eyes met. He stared at the man's mustache instead of his eyes.

"Is your Papa doing a good job raising you?"

"Oh yes, Papa is the best, he puts meat on the table, and we train together, and read, and he buys me clothing, and makes sure I'm warm at night." Leos gushed. For a moment, Germany thought something was wrong with his son. So often he would cower behind him, having to be forced to speak to others. But how, with his boss's air of dominance, did he break from his shell and speak so freely? It concerned him so that he found himself slowly dragging Leos' closer and more behind him, as if to protect him. Leos was his of course, right? He pushed the selfish thought aside. He should be glad Leos connected so instantly.

"You Papa sounds like a good man," He said, Leos hugged his father's leg and looked up at him.

"Tell me, are you feeling well?"

"Yes,"

"No bleeding?"

"How did you know about my bleeding?"

"I am the one who sent you to live with your Papa. Your Uncle Gilbert told me all about you,"

"Oh, well, I haven't for a while. Some times I bruise but I haven't had an accident for a long time!" Leos' face was bright with cheer as was the man's.

"You keep growing strong, now, run and play. Those are some of my closest friend's children over there and I am sure they are eager to meet you. I have to talk to your Papa for a minute." Leos nodded and obeyed. Germany stood for a moment in shock, then he figured it out.

_Leos isn't a human. He represents the people and I keep forgetting. Of course, so far the people are still confident and happy. They bend to his will so he will too... His power over Leos is only natural, as his power is over me..._ Germany sighed as he watched his son introduce himself. He felt his boss's eyes lay on him,

"Enjoy yourself, Ludwig. After dinner there will be a short meeting."

oooooooooooooooo

Italy sat on the couch looking over the floor he had just cleaned. Foolishly, he started on the outskirts and worked his way into the center of the room, now he was stranded on furniture until the floor dried. Sighing, he kicked his feet up, deciding on an early siesta. Just as he began to drift a sharp clash startled him. Instantly panicking, he flung himself up and ran, slipped and skidded face first into the adjacent chair.

"Who is there? Don't shoot! I'll do anything!" Italy exclaimed as he stood with his hands up.

"Meow," The cat sat in the archway, it's tail flopping from side to side. With a sigh of relief, Italy straightened out,

"It's just you Kitty," Italy laughed, "I thought England might have been spying again, oh thank goodness," Italy tiptoed to the archway, trying to step on the drier spots. A foul smell shot up Italy' nose the instant he was in the hall. Beside the cat was yet again another dead animal. This time a squirrel, curled up and decayed to a leathery stone.

"Where do you keep getting these dead things from?" Italy asked, the cat walked away, leaving Italy to clean up the mess.

ooooooooooooooooooo

The dining hall was decorated with paintings of cities and streets, illuminated by electric lamps. The ceiling arched and from it hung a chandelier that shined down on the magnificent spread. Bread, butter, eggs, squashes, potatoes, beans, sliced ham, soups, and an array of other dishes Leos never saw before. While the other children gathered at the far end of the table, and the soldiers the near end toward their boss, Leos stayed right at his father's side. A solider went to take the boy's spot but a quick flaming glare from Germany made him instantly back off, cowering to a further seat.

As the food was past around, everyone waited for the boss to take his share. The other children were served last while Leos was put before more soldiers. His plate filled with potatoes, butter, and ham. The boy continued to hold his own in portion sizes, taking as much as his father and surrounding men, while the other kids were long finished after a quarter portion. Some of the soldiers gawked at the boy's seemingly bottomless stomach. Germany made sure there were plenty of vegetables on the boy's plate, fearing he may not have much until winter was over.

Conversation was light and superficial, little about war, politics or life was spoken of. Mundane comments about weather, the good food, and recreation were discussed. It eased Germany somewhat, but there was a sense of dread for the coming meeting. Leos had tried to remember his manners, but had bitten off more of a carrot then he could chew. Leaning over, his father discreetly wiped his face clean and let his son continue eating. One of the soldiers across from Germany chuckled,

"Who knew Ludwig could be such an attentive and protective babysitter?" Though the man meant it in the best way, Germany still took slight offense and corrected the other guest.

"My son,"

"Oh," He said.

After the feast the men retired to the lounge, Leos sent off to play again. While Germany rested his hand on his bloated stomach, he closed his eyes. Not only had he over eaten, but was becoming tired from it. He heard the others slowly begin to sink in posture, relaxing.

"My little girl, Hilda, why she got herself all A's with her tutor this past year," One of the men began bragging.

"My boy, Brutus, he's top in his troop, passes all his tests with flying colors. He'll make a fine soldier one day." The other countered. They looked to Germany who took a deep breath. Leos was obedient, inventive, and intelligent... But he wasn't particularly special in the eyes of his comrades. In fact, he rubbed against the grain of the ideal boy and should he not have been such an important tool for his boss Leos most likely would have been dragged to the back of a gassing truck when discovered. What was there to brag about? That he's a bleeder? That he can eat his weight in food? That he could beat Italy in checkers? Germany thought a moment.

"My son Leos..." He paused, opening his mouth to speak but one of the children began to shout, the girl. Her father rolled her eyes

"And she loves drama..." He muttered as his girl ran up to him.

"Hilda, you know better than to run in on me and my colleagues. Go. Play." His words were harsh, scolding almost. The girl backed away and left without another word.

_ She is so tiny to be looked upon so harshly..._ Germany thought. Thinking back to his own up bringing, Gilbert was rather gentle. Only a few times did he do something stupid enough to be struck. Even still, his almost never got yelled at. Leos was similar in disposition but timid and far weaker. He could take such a tone with him without feeling guilty. Guilt, that was a word Germany shunned usually. _Perhaps the guilt belongs there... After all our losses, how could someone punish our people more? I can't. I am in debt to them. I have to make it up,_

After some causal talk they were called to the meeting room. Germany sat across from his boss, falling back into his military mode. After a long silence his boss looked at each of his men and breathed deep.

"We have now, in our hands, a large piece of land which connects us with our brother. Poland has small weak resistance around it's borders but their sparks can be snuffed out. With this land we have inherited a large populous of filth, the enemy of the German. Our home efforts of condensing and deporting are not suitable anymore. Neighbors will not take them in, they know what they have done. Now we must put in to action a plan to rid ourselves of the burden. My high officers and I have established several plans. Also, we must continue forth with cultivating a healthy population of Germans." His boss began. Most of the meeting went through Germany's head. He took notes, but felt his focus was off. After a two hour struggle of listening and deliberating, his boss summed up the plans.

"A little prior to now we have begun Tiergertenstrasse 4 to help rid ourselves of the terminal or incurable. This will allow their funds and institutions to be used for wounded and recovering German soldiers. We have also made this mandatory, in lieu of voluntary by the parents. In addition, I hope to soon developed Todeslagers through Poland. This will help both the Jewish Problem, the Roma, and others. We have contemplated the use of bullets however we have decide to use of chlorine and other chemicals should supplement this to save cost on the metal. Burial and cremation will be the methods of disposal. For research purposes the chosen physicians will carry out controlled experiments to better aid the medical community. Work camps will provide a labor source for the war and be chosen from fit to work Jews in the Ghettos as well as POWs, and Roma. All members of high rank an the cabinet must witness executions to ensure orders are taken as directed and to record this incredible undertaking. Our next target for expansion is France, we will aim for Paris." The men nodded. Germany sat still in his seat, his eyes glazed.

"Ludwig," He snapped back to attention. "You will again lead us into battle. I expect you be in the Rhineland by weeks end with your troops."

"Yes, Mein fuhrer,"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leos was resting on the sofa when Germany scooped him up. His eyes fluttered open and struggled against his father's arms.

"I can walk Papa," He whispered as he twisted around to put his feet on the ground. Germany still held his hand, unwilling to let him stray from his side a moment longer. Before, meetings with his boss were only as stressful as how much work he was given. Something about Leos being there made him a wreck. Germany was practically dragging his son out the door.

"Leos," A meek squeaked. The little girl ran up to Leos, leaning up she kissed both his cheeks which instantly flushed red.

"Thank you playing with me," She said before running back to the other boy. Germany smirked, watching his son cup his cheek and stare at the girl. Germany ran his hand down his son back and turned him away and toward the car. Seating him in the front he locked the door and closed it before getting into the driver's side. Both of were silent for a while before Leos spoke.

"Papa, I change my mind," He said,

"Mm? About what?"

"I don't like women, but I do like girls." He said, Germany reached across and ruffled his hair.

**ooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

_Tiergertenstrasse 4 (aka T4)- one of the earliest Extermination programs put it to place by Hitler. It stems from a letter written to Hitler by "Child K's" parents asking to euthanize the boy, who was born badly deformed. Hitler formed a program to put these children down with permission from the parents. Eventually permission was not needed and it extended to the handicap, mental ill, terminal and incurable patients. 1939-1941_

_Toteslager- death camp or extermination camp, mostly for Jews. Poland was home to many of the larger ones. Poland's population was largely Jewish, while Germany had very little in comparison. Numbers vary but about 500,000 Jewish people lived in Germany where in Poland they numbered between 2-3.3 mil. High ranking officers were obligated to attend at least one mass killing. After which many were shaken and wished to never witness it again, some reacting quiet explosively to what they witnessed. Zyklon B was used to rid the area of lice because it was dangerous to soldiers, but because of its toxic nature it was used in gassing (some debate this) originally victims were shot but the metal and bullets were so expensive it wasn't worth it. Execution walls were still used, mostly to make examples out of others imprisoned in work camps._

_Roma- Also known as Gypsies. a subgroup of Romani people. Roma children were the most famous for be experimented on. This may have something to do with their unusually high number of inherited illnesses._


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer- **_I do not own hetalia_

**Note-** _thank you for all the reviews :D. remember if you like, review ^^_

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The long night had taken its toll on Germany. Leos had fallen asleep before they arrived home, so Germany tucked him in his bed before retreating downstairs with his robe. He sat in front of the fireplace, a book in his hand, trying to unwind before bed. The glow of the fire light up the pages so that no light was needed. His fatigued eyes skimmed the same lines several times before his mind comprehended the words. Slowly, his lids sealed and he relaxed. His chest rose softly, his breathing shallowed, the creases on his face smoothed out, and the book fell against his breast. After some time a low snore came from his mouth.

Italy's stomach had woken him up, demanding a midnight snack. He half consciously drifted down the stairs and into the kitchen. Reaching for the glass bottle of milk, he took a quick few swigs before sealing it and fumbling to put it back. When he turned around, the soft hue of the fire caught his attention.

Italy leaned over his ally. He was a different man, when asleep. The vulnerability of his pose, the smooth face, like an infant. Italy smiled when he noticed the book in his hands. Carefully sliding from his friend's fingers he placed it back on the shelf and went back to Germany's side. He kissed each of his cheeks and closed the robe tighter.

"Good night, Germany," He said.

...............

The scent of frying venison sausage, eggs, and bread was the first thing to rouse Germany from his slumber. His fingers tightened and brow creased as he stirred a bit. Slowly, he propped himself up, allowing himself one large yawn before he began to pay attention to his surroundings. Italy was in the kitchen, flipping the browning sausages and setting the finished portions on three plates. Leos was at the counter adding thin slices of potatoes to an empty pan. Germany tightened the cloth belt on his rob and leaned in the door way.

Leos turned and smiled when he spotted his father.

"Good morning, Germany!" Italy beamed, "How was your meeting?" Germany sat that the table,

"It went well, I suppose..." Germany said, "I will have to leave again... But hopefully not for long.

"Oh... Where too this time?"

"France," Italy frooze,

"F-fa-fa-France?..."

"Mhm... And you will be helping me," Germany said, Italy began to quiver.

"Ba-ba-but France has troops and Britain and-"

"Italy...This needs to be done... I need some support, some troops, anything to help." Germany asked. His eyes were soft as he looked at the Italian, "I'm in a pinch," Italy looked down at the floor.

"How many?"

"How ever many you can send... Italy, I want you personally to stay with Leos, but I am going to give you telegraphs and a radio which you will rely messages from here. It's safe, but you'll still be helping. I figure it is better than putting you on a battlefield..."

"Yes sir!" Germany chuckled at his sudden enthusiasm when the man realized he would be out of harm's way.

_ So what if I spare him the horrors of war? At least for now..._

_....................  
_

It was the tenth time Germany tapped out the messages. Even with a key by his side, Italy struggled to send the simplest of orders. His radio work was far better, but relay stations were unreliable in war and should anything happen to the machine, they complex to fix.

"Like this?" Italy asked as he tapped out the message,

"Better but you forgot the 's' in horse... try again," Germany encouraged. Italy began over again, trying to keep a rhythm. Germany's overpowering presence didn't help much. He felt even more pressured as Germany's brows knitted. Frantically he tried to correct himself, but a large hand came over his. It was gentle, not the usual way Germany held Italy. His eyes closed and face smooth.

"It's two... Time for a siesta... We can start back up afterward." Italy looked up at his comrade, unable to comprehend what his friend said. "I need to use the desk anyway so rest up a bit," He added,

"Yes, Germany," Italy said as he stood. Germany took his spot and pulled out some papers. He began his regiment of reading and signing. Italy took one look back, making sure it was indeed Germany sitting at the table.

He shut the door and looked at the clock. It wasn't two, not even close. Italy thought of opening the door again but decided that this rare opportunity needed to be taken advantage of. Grabbing his coat, Italy rushed out the door.

....................

Leos was outside, in his hands a stick and on his head one of Germany's helmets. His coat and scarf dangled low as he pretended to fight off invisible enemies. The dead forest and vast expanse of grey grass made it seem as if the area was truly a ground zero. Italy watch amused before interrupting the boy's fantasy.

"Germany let me off early! Lets go to the park," Italy said, Leos carefully placed his helmet on the ground and went to Italy's side.

"Will Papa come too?"

"No, Germany is working, but we can bring him something back." Italy said,

"Okay," Leos wrapped himself around Italy's arm.

.................

Germany stared down at the papers before him. He had been sent home with them last night and had read them several times throughout the day, but now he re-read every word. Thousands of papers bore his signature, but this document was unlike the others. It was the one approving the building of the Todeslager in Poland. His pen hovered above the document, hand quivering. Germany still could not put his name on the paper.

_Do I have a choice?_ He thought, and came to the grim realization that no, he didn't. He could sign it and condemn people to a miserable death or refuse, probably be killed and the documents signed by someone else. Either way, these people were going to die. He grimaced, covering his eyes as the pen meet the paper. Wincing as he wrote his name, his pen returned to it's holder and he sealed the papers in an envelope.

..............

Leos dragged Italy to a nearby window. The town they lived near was for the relatively wealthy, so the store windows were set up with marvelous things the common folk could not dream of affording. Leos watched a toy train run on a wooden track.

"Mr. Italy, how does the little train move?" He asked,

"Ve, I don't know," Italy said,

"It's a wind up, your turn the peg which coils a spring. When tight it unwinds and moves gears attached to the wheels to move it forward." Both of them turned to look at the stranger.

"Oh, Austria! I didn't know you were in town," Italy said. The tall man stood with a bag in his hand. Hungary next to him. His blue suit tidy as usual and her dress colorful in comparison. Leos cowered behind Italy and pressed himself into his back.

"Hungary, so nice to see you!" Italy exclaimed with his arm out. They hugged and kissed each other on the cheek. Austria twitched a bit, his chest heating with jealousy.

"Yes, well, we were in the neighborhood and the shopping is quiet good around these parts. I didn't realized you lived so close to this town." Austria said.

"Well, not very close, its quiet a walk but it's the closest. Germany had to work but gave Leos and I the day off." It explained. Hungary leaned over and peeked around Italy,

"Hello, there Leos," She said, he turned his head and hid behind Italy's other leg.

"Don't be shy Leos, Hungary is really nice. Ve, say hello," He encouraged. The boy peeked from behind Italy's pant leg, his metallic eyes sending a shiver through Hungary.

"Hi," He breathed before burying his face back into Italy.

"He's a bit bolder when Germany is around... Anyway, how has your day been?" Italy asked,

"Just fine. Why don't you join us for lunch? We were just heading to the cafe near the park," Hungary offered. Before Austria could make an excuse, Italy smiled wide

"Of course!"

...............

Leos curled up on Italy's lap with his back turned to Hungary. He was petrified, refusing to look at her. Italy had apologized for the boy's behavior but Hungary just shook her head.

"I know how to get through to kids," She smiled, She reached around Leos and began to tickle his side. Unable to resist, the boy laughed and squirmed. With his guard dropped Hungary was able to face him. The fear had left and she gently picked him up. The men watched as she slowly coaxed the apprehension from Leos and they began to play.

"Hungary has always been good with others," Italy said,

"Indeed..." Austria responded,"So, how is Germany doing these days?" Austria asked,

"Fine, always busy, not very fun these days." Italy answered,

"Well, waltzing unto other countries territories would keep one quiet busy." Austria commented,

"Well... I suppose... Are you mad at him Austria?"

"No, not really. I was a weak state and his boss taking over me did something at least... I am mad at some recent policies, but I don't have much of a say anymore." Austria sighed.

"... Austria... Do you think this war... Will make things better?" Italy asked,

"That is a rather odd question, Italy," Austria paused, "No. I think this war will complicate things. Soon, everyone will be involved in global conflict, many people are going to die." Austria said.

"Germany seems to believe it's best... I don't want to question him, but I have a feeling he doesn't believe it either," Italy said. Austria sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Ludwig is a slave to his boss, as am I. They only comfort he has in this world, is believing that he is doing the right thing... Even if it is an illusion," Austria said. Leos squeaked as Hungary spun him around, the two of them had bonded quickly.

"Leos, it is almost two, Germany will be worried if we don't return soon." Italy said, Leos returned to his side.

"We should return as well, Hungary," Austria said, "Well, until we meet again," Austria added.

"Goodbye," Italy said,

"Bye bye," Leos waved as he walked away with Italy. Hungary waved back then leaned unto Austria.

"Such a sweet kid, doesn't it make you wanna have one?" She said. Austria's jaw dropped. His eyes twitched a bit before turning the other way and coughing.

"W-we should be on our way,"

.....................

Germany watched from the window as Italy and Leos walked up to the house. His sadness dissolved when he saw Italy and his son smiling. His friend urging the boy to hide something before they opened the door.

"We're home!" Italy announced as he opened the door.

"Welcome back, where did you disappear too?" Germany asked,

"We went into town, we ran into Austria and Hungary. Here," Italy presented him with a small wrapped parcel in wax paper. "We got lunch, this is some great bread, beef, and potatoes."

"Thank you, Italy," Germany said. He paused awkwardly and stared down at the wrapped food. His thumb glided over the paper as he lost himself in thought. Leos looked up at Italy, who looked at Germany.

"I have to mail something, I will be back soon." Germany said as he searched for his envelope. Packing the papers neatly he folded over the top and gave it one more glance over.

"Oh, the stamp," He mumbled as he headed back to his office. He picked up the little nub and pressed it on the soaked pad. Firmly, he pressed the stamp over the seal and blew on it to speed the drying. The purple ink bleed to the side slightly before fusing with the grainy paper.

"Owww!" Leos squeaked, Germany turned and went back to the living room.

"What? What is wrong?" He asked,

"My back," He said leaning over, his small hands struggling to reach the spot. Germany turned him around and lifted up his shirt.

"Oh," Germany breathed. A small spot on the middle of the boy's back was seeping blood. His flesh scrapped off, as if he had fallen on a hard street. It was about the size of Germany's hand, but was not deep.

"Hold your shirt up," He said, he tossed the envelope aside. "Let me get some cotton," He said. Italy picked up the discarded package and tucked it under his arm.

"You stay here, I am going to mail this for Germany," he said to Leos, the boy nodded and watched Italy leave. Germany came back with a damp cotton swab, gently he cleaned the wound until the pale glossy dermis was clear.

"Lets leave this open," He said plucking his son's shirt up. "Let it dry a bit, I don't want lint to get caught in there." He added. Leos squirmed as he tried to touch it, unable to reach.

_That is all the proof I need, I'm not mailing that document... I'll say I never got it..._ Germany thought. He paced around the floor, searching for the brown package of papers. Leos watched for a moment before tilting his head and asking,

"What are you searching for?"

"That envelope," He said,

"Mr. Italy went to go mail it for you."

.................

_if you like please R&R_


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**- _I wish I owned Hetalia... But I don't._

**Note-**_Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. I REALLY REALLY appreciate it :D. As usual, historical notes will be at the bottom. Battles will take place. Instead of going through exact military strategies, the fights are more figurative for now so some historical inaccuracy may be present._

_........................  
_

Germany had spend the first part of the night squirming in bed. Even though the night was pleasant in temperature, the country quiet, the air dry, he felt uncomfortable in his skin. He tossed the covers aside, then grew too cold, under them he began to sweat. He peeled some layers of clothing off, but still he was hot and irritated. Burying his face in his hands he pleaded with himself to sleep. An ache was in his chest, a yearning. Germany slid from the bed, laying down wasn't helping so perhaps a cool drink would. He began down the hall when his feet stopped at Leos' room.

Peeking through the crack in the door he saw the boy was still up. Clinging to the stuffed lamb, he buried his face in it when he caught a glimpse of Germany. The door creaked as he slipped in and sat on his son's bed. The moon light illuminated Leos' platinum blonde hair, creating a hue of white around his head.

"What is wrong, why are you not asleep?" Germany asked,

"You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?" He whimpered,

"I am," Germany answered. There was a pause between them, Leos peeked up from the lamb and stared at Germany's large hands.

"You have to go... right?" He asked, Germany nodded. Leos' eyes began to swell with tears. He wiped them off on his lamb and curled back up. Germany pulled the boy closer to him.

"Shhhhh, it's okay... I will be fine," He soothed, Leos shook his head.

"Papa shouldn't leave! Papa needs to be here!" He cried.

"I have to do whatever my boss orders... I am needed on the battlefield," Germany answered.

"No," Leos said, "Why? Why do you need to fight?"

"Don't fret over it, Leos..." Germany said, "Come on, I'll let you sleep with me tonight." He added as he picked the boy up under the armpits. He propped Leos against his shoulder and headed back down the hallway. Italy had rolled over and claimed more than his share of the bed. Casually shoving the Italian over, Germany took his spot back and held Leos against him. The boy still wept unto his father's chest.

"Shhhhhhhh, Leos, be calm. I will return," He said,

"B-but what if you don't?" He asked,

"I will, shhhhh, be strong," Germany whispered. After some minutes Leos had become calmer, clenching and unclenched Germany's shirt with his small hands. The discomfort and irritation that plagued Germany before, dissolved when his child was near. When he was sure Leos had fallen asleep he looked over to Italy. The gentle soul was sound asleep.

_I wish he could teach me to be so at peace..._

_...........................  
_

Italy was already crying yet he hadn't spoken his farewell. Germany stood before him, his uniform in order, gun on his back, belt armed with all the essentials. Leos stood next to Italy, biting his lower lip to try and hold back his own tears.

"Germany, b-be careful, I pack your white flag and your brown boxers and-"

"Italy," Germany said, his hand came to his friend's cheek. His pale lips pressed a kiss on the side of his face and he patted Italy's shoulder.

"I'm counting on you..." He said, Italy's cries were nothing but gibberish. His emotions overpowering, Germany shoved them into the pit of his stomach before looking at his son.

"Be good," He said softly as he hugged him.

"I'll be strong Papa," He said. Germany looked around the foyer once last time. Taking in the little details of his home. The rings in the wood of the floors, the pale walls that met the simple arch molding at the top, the way the light from the kitchen pooled into the hall and tinted it yellow. Outside, the roar of one of the military cars growled in the road. Taking a deep breath he savored the scent of his home for a moment before turning and opening the door. The mild day rushed into the stuffy home and bathed him in light as he left.

When the car could no longer be heard Italy shut the door. Leaning against it, he hesitated to bring his hand from the knob. Blinking the last tears from his eyes, he straightened himself out.

"I should set up... It won't take him too long to get to the Rhineland..." Italy said. He walked past Leos who was frozen in place, staring at the door.

Italy looked into Germany's office. Set out for him was a map with small triangles on it. Blue representing his Italian back up, while the Green was German troops. Red circles pin pointed areas where the French army was mobilized. White X's showed the target area's for explosives. From the radio each troop called in their progression and Italy was ordered to move their pieces along and rely information to his own people. Flicking on the radio he tuned it to the proper wave and waited for someone to contact him.

......................

Germany sat across from his brother, who's vivid eyes stared at him from between his gloved fingers. To his left was Austria, who hadn't said a word nor showed any hint of contributing. Prussia pointed to a spot on the map on the table and nodded.

"From here we will head north, and take the city," He said,

"Agreed," Germany sighed. He glanced at Austria, who gave him a dirty look. To access some of the areas they needed to go south into Germany or, in older terms, into Austria. He had no choice, of course, but Austria didn't have to be pleasant about it. In fact, being so disgruntled was his only defense. Germany didn't hold it against him and instead focus back on his brother who had fastened his sword to his side.

"East, I don't think that sword will do you much good these days." He said,

"Oh, West... The greatest battles in history were won when the flesh of a man was sliced by the sword."

"And even more killed with a bead of lead. Take a gun," Germany order,

"I don't need one, I am so awesome I will kill with my looks." Prussia said with a smirk. Germany sighed. He hadn't been killed in the last battle, so he must have done something right. Prussia rested his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Do you know how long I seethed hatred and waited for this battle? We will not loose," He punctuated his last words and looked his brother in the eye.

................

Germany stood out in front of his troops. The fields before them were peeking with flowers and young saplings. A storm was moving from the west, while to the east the sun was ducking behind the trees. There was no clear boundary at this point, but with a few steps forward Germany felt the aura change. He crossed in France. His gut told him to retreat, this was no place to be, but after a few steps into enemy territory he stood firm. He waved to the army to follow, the tanks roared forward, the men marching. This steady beat of machines and men is what Austria referred to as the death symphony.

There was a shot, shocking Germany back into reality. He had no clue where it had come from, his side or theirs. He crouched and his men immediately took cover and began firing. The tank's hatched sealed a the metal beast growled as their cannons too aim to the west. The missile fired and plunged itself into the forest. The cry of men followed the explosion, the forest burned.

"Take cover and move into the forest!" Germany ordered. The danger of his men in the open would cost him. The fell on their belly and moved through the grass. The tanks rolled ahead, continuing their assault. The booms vibrated Germany's chest and heart. He wondered briefly if his heart would stop from being battered around his chest so. He waited until the tanks were a good distance before squeezing the radio again.

"Advance behind the tanks," He said. The men obeyed, jogging stealthy behind the steal soldiers. Germany thought a moment.

_Tanks can not navigate a forest like this... But beyond that is farms and then the city... They sent these troops to their death, confronting us like this. They knew we had tanks, planes, machines... Why __are they starting like this? We have to clear a way for the tanks, these trees are too large to run over. That will take some time._

A pop and intense heat shot past Germany's head, shocking him from his thoughts. From the north stormed troops, an attempt to corner his army. Ducking down behind a vehicle, Germany brought his radio to his head again. The wail of bullets hitting the steel skin of his shield overpowered his shouts.

"Reserves, move in West! We are being attacked from the north! Advancing army turn your last squads around to pincher the enemy!" Germany clicked off and cocked his gun. Aiming over the front of the truck he fired.

..............

Italy sat at the radio, his fingers tapping out rushed messages. The influx of voices keep his other hand busy tuning the instrument. Occasionally his hand would leave the knob and push one of the triangles or circles.

**French army from the North has been obliterated. Western troops retreating into the forest for cover. Move West, ground troops, Move north troops in route with vehicles, Move Southwest tanks. **Italy pushed the pieces.

_Italian troops move west in wake of the Germany army_ He sent. Another high pitched squeal of bullets and fire came through the radio.

**German tanks clear of Southwest forest. Reinforcement from the French army has meet their advance. German transported troops are penetrating the North western front and gaining.**

** This is the Northwestern Advancing army, contact with the French army and deploying all troops. Request for aerial back u-** The message cut off. Italy quickly tapped out another order.

_Italian troops change direction to Northwest and back up German troops. All available air planes fly Northwestern and prepare to bomb any enemy tanks and fortification. _

**This is Northwestern Advancing, enemy tanks firing! Three platoons killed, one tank crippled. Send the tanks ahead!**

** The Southern front has broken through fortification and advancing on enemy territory. **

** This is Northwest Front! Enemy planes sp-aaaah- **Italy froze in his seat. Static crackled from the radio. He tried to re tune it, but it hiss back. Italy flipped on his other one.

"This is Feliciano, relay station one please respond," He trembled,

"This is relay one,"

"Relay information on the status of the Northwestern advancing troops," He said. Pushing back in his chair Italy held his face.

"Germany, Germany please be okay..." He cried.

...................

Germany blinked, his vision blurred, the world around him bleed into a grey smear. There was a buzzing, dull and annoying. Only his own heart could be heard beating against his rib cage, all else was silent. He was on his back, the dirt powdering his pallid face. There was a wetness that his his forehead and ran down his temple and to his jaw. Another one, on the eye. Then again on his lips. He parted them and tasted the liquid. Water. The little droplets began to patter against the earth. Forcing his eyes to roll forward he struggled to focus. The grey blur became clear. It was the storm sky. Slowly his senses returned, he remembered he was on the western front. His hearing began to clear. In the distance there was gun fire. Snapping of trees echoed with the shrills of death. He breathed and wondered how long it had been since his last breath. Slowly, he shifted his weight over so he laid on his side and curled up. He felt not pain, yet, but he waited. He saw red on him, his uniform was torn but the pain never came. He heard a vibration in the ground, four steady beats.

"Wessstt!" The cry was faint, but gaining on him. He pulled himself up with a moan "Weessttttt!" It cried again. He looked over his shoulder to see a fast approaching object. The beat getting louder.

"Pa... Prussia?" His breathed. The objects skidded to a halt and Prussia jumped off, running to his brother.

"West, west, are you okay? Say something!" He grabbed hold of his brother' face.

"I... I think I'm fine," Germany answered. Prussia held up his hand,

"How many fingers?"

"Four," He answered,

"Where are you injured?" He asked looking over his brother, Germany ran a hand over his body, searching.

"I'm not... I think I was just knocked out for a bit," Germany said. Prussia helped him stand. The large man wobbled at first but quickly gained his balance. With a deep breath he looked around him.

The field and forest was leveled, nothing but ash, earth and blood. The storm mixed this into a slurry that drained into the thousands of foot prints heading to the west. Prussia folded his arms.

"What happened?" Germany asked,

"Your aerial forces met theirs and you where right under their dual. We won, of course, but the ground troops under them took extensive damage." Prussia explained. Germany was only now noticing the steel skeletons of plains rising from the ground. He turned to his brother,

"How are we doing now?"

"We made a lot of progress... Almost to Paris," Prussia smirked, "Unfortunately, our relay and communication stations are all down. Only radio is working but it will not reach beyond the battlefield. One of the stations was hit. It should be back up soon but because of that the Italian troops have held their position and refuse to advance." Prussia said. Germany cracked a smile,

"They did not flee?"

"No... You've trained that Italian pet of yours well," Prussia prodded. Germany shrugged and looked to the front. The fighting was barely visible.

"Oh, and our cars were destroyed. Riddled with bullet holes. Which is why is stole this from one of the neighboring farms." He pointed at a draughty built horse who was still harnessed with a yolk. "I've been scouting for enemies and trying to find your sorry ass. If you ever scare me like that again I will bring old fritz back from the grave and have him whoop you so hard!" Prussia scolded.

"When will replacement trucks come?"

"As soon as we can relay information I'll send the word out... Do you think you can fight? Or do you want to go back to the medic camp?" He asked. Germany felt for his gun on his back and then searched around for his helmet. He fastened the leather strap under his chin.

"If my people fight so do I," Germany said. Prussia mounted and pulled his brother up.

................

Prussia laughed to himself. Surely being from proper stock, the art of being in the bitch seat of a horse would not be a difficult task. Bump on the head or not. His brother struggled to keep himself on the animal. The carnage was getting worse the deeper they went into France. Bodies not yet attended too were sprawled out in the mud. Some twitched while others were silent. Prussia turned away from the sight and focused on the mane of the horse instead.

"You okay brother?" Germany huffed as he clung to his lither sibling,

"You still don't see it? do you..." Prussia trailed.

"See what?" He asked,

"Nothing," Prussia's boots slammed against the barrel of the beast. The draught horse would not be much for speed, but its power would jolt Germany so that he needed to be silent.

The cries and gunfire grew louder. Germany prepared himself to dismounted, hoping he would do so gracefully enough to land on his feet. Prussia sat deep and nearly pulled the mouth out of the horse, it grinded to a halt flinging Germany off the side. His face hit the mud and encased it in its wet grasp. Prussia smirked,

"Though you would have better reflexes than that," He mocked, Germany wiped the mud from his face and glared at his brother. The smile had faded as the albino's eyes were glued to the battle field. His stare intensified, his mouth agape in horror.

"East?" Germany questioned, he looked to the front. It was no more bloody or cruel than any other. Men being sliced open and shot, fire spreading and consuming all life, horrible but not unusual for battle.

"Brother!" Germany snapped him back into reality.

"You don't see it do you?" Prussia asked, Germany cocked an eye brow. Narrowing his eyes the older sibling yanked the horse angrily around and beat his hind with his gloved hand. The horse took off and Germany was left without a parting word.

............

Leos waited in the yard, watching the little dirt road. The helmet on his head obstructed his eyes so he had to raise his neck up to see down the road. The day was fair, not too warm or cold. The sun sneaked from cloud to cloud, the wind ruffling the fresh grass peeking from the brown flesh of the earth. Occasionally a woodland critter would jump into the open and scamper across the front yard. Leos sighed, taking his suspenders from his shoulders. It was warm enough to wear his shorts, but the suspenders did little but annoy his soft shoulders.

From inside he heard the heavy walking of boots, then the turn of the knob. Italy hovered over him, his brown eyes down cast and refused to look the boy in the face.

"Mr. Italy, whats wrong?" He asked,

"I lost contact with the troops," Ital whimpered, "The relay said the equipment on the field is too far damaged... The army has taken some severe hits... I can't get a hold of Germany," He said.

"But he's alright, right? Papa's fine," Leos insisted,

"Leos," Italy whimpered, "I don't know... And I can't help him... I promised him I would, I promised to be there and I'm not... I failed," Italy began to cry, "T-the one time he asked and I-I could do that o-one thing!" Italy let himself fall to his rump on the steps. Leos grabbed Italy's sleeve and shook him gently.

"Don't cry Mr. Italy, d-don't cry," Leos began to tear up. "There is no one else to help?" Leos asked.

"Japan is too busy with China... Russia is no ally... The other countries already lent support in the form of men... To replace that equipment would take days..." Italy explained.

"Papa can fix things! He must know that you can't contact him, he won't be mad. He'll be okay Mr. Italy," Leos declared though his sniffles. Italy pulled Leos into his lap.

"So determined... I wonder where you get that from..."

.....................

Germany followed the tank tracks right into the heart of the battlefield. His vision tunneled unto targets for cover. His gun had the bayonet attached, glistening with the rain water. His bangs pricked against his eyes, his hot core ached against the cold nip of the rain on his skin. His feet pounded the earth until he came to the first shield. It was a broken truck, flipped over. Other men were firing from behind it, while others reloaded. He joined them, positioning himself so his gun hovered above the driver side. He took aim at the first man he saw in a foreign color. He shot again at yet another behind him. The recoil of the gun slammed against his shoulder like a hammer. From behind was a whistle that shot over head and plunged far unto enemy soil. An explosion rattled the ground and shook Germany to the earth. Composing himself, he repositioned only to notice that no enemy was in front.

Darting from the side he gained ground, running low and fast until the next 'shield'. He gauged his distance from the enemy who ran to meet the German army. He reached down for his radio and frantically patted himself. It was gone.

"Fuck," He spat as he looked around. He gave up and reloaded his gun. Taking aim over the twisted piece of metal and fired into the smoke. Others slowly came to his side, firing and working to clear the enemy before them. Quickly his eyes swept the area. He pulled a grenade from his belt and pulled the pin.

"Take cover!" He ordered as he threw the bomb. The little orb splattered against the mud, the French attempted to flee but before they could move it exploded.

"Move! Move!" He ordered. The men obeyed, pushing further into France. Some fell suddenly while other disappeared into the smoke. Germany waited, scoping out his next move. The gunfire was a ways away, but the entire field was open. No cover. He readied his gun and took off. His long legs carrying him as fast as they could. Halfway to the front, something grabbed his boot. Plummeting to the earth, he panicked and kicked it away.

"Long li... Live... Deu.. Du..." A mumble came from the mud. Germany crawled over and notice a mess of hair. He pulled the man from the soil. In the back ground a heavy four beat gait thundered toward him. The man opened his eyes and stared up at Germany. They were metallic, his hair pale, face of a child.

"L...Le... Leos?" Germany stammered,

"La... Long... Live... Fu.. Fuhr..." He whimpered and grabbed unto Germany, revealing his injury. His belly sliced opened and entrails had spilled out unto the land.

"Leos! Leos don't worry!" Germany shouted as he cupped the man's face. The beat grew louder in the background. Mud splattered against Germany and he was blinded. A gun went off in his ear. Jumping, Germany instinctively tried to flee. He stumbled to his feet and got hold of his gun.

Prussia sat on the horse, a hand gun pointed down. It's style that of a french army. Beneath it lay a body, bleeding from the head. Prussia's hand trembled and his breathed,

"That is what a gun is like?" He dismounted and tossed the weapon aside in the mud. He muttered something barely audible but Germany made out, "Deliver us from evil," Germany sunk to his knees and picked the man up. His face was no longer that of his son's but of the individual he was. A fair haired man with half open dark eyes, his youth evident form the lack of wear on his soft skin. He laid the corpse back down.

"So... You do see it... Don't you?" Prussia said,

"Wa... What is this? Am I crazy?" Germany asked,

"No... This is nor-" A blast cut Prussia off. The horse squealed and fell over on his side, thrashing. Prussia grabbed his brother and pulled him back. The rhythmic clang of bullets following them. Prussia shoved his brother behind a downed plane and ducked. Germany held his face, his memory flashing before him his son curled in his arms with his belly slit. Prussia shook him, but couldn't disturb him from his thoughts. He molested his brothers waist for a grenade and once finding one pulled the pin and flung it blindly unto the front. The explosion brought Germany back into reality.

.............

Leos rubbed his stomach and curled against Italy. His color had changed to a sickly green. Italy made him some tea to try and settle the boy's digestive upset but getting him to drink it was a small battle. Normally, Italy would sweeten it with some sugar and milk, but none had been left. Leos' face twisted as he tried to obey Italy and drink. He had no luck as he swallowed hard and pushed the little cup aside.

"Papa," Leos said, Italy moved from the couch and went to the radio in the corner. Flicking the knobs he tried to get a regular public station to deliver some news. A fuzzy voice crackled through and slowly became clear.

"Today, the father land successfully invaded it's long time enemy, France. The troops marched into Paris today, taking France. The country's north and west sides will be German occupied while the south and rump state shall fall under Italian control. Tens of thousands were wounded or killed in the battlefield. Their sacrifice shall not not be in vein for our Fuhre-" Italy clicked off the radio.

"We won?" Leos asked. Italy was silent, his mouth slightly parted.

"...We did," He said,

"Then Papa's okay!" Leos asked,

"...I don't know," Italy said covering his face. _Please, Ludwig, be alive!_

_................  
_

Germany called his troops to attention. Their steps in perfect unison as they clicked and stood for orders. Germany paced the lines, but not with his usual vigor. His eyes were tired, flesh pale. A car rolled up and was instantly surrounded by others. Two men exited and were escorted to look the view of Paris. The Eiffel tower standing proudly against a grey sky, its sharp tip almost piercing the scaly. Though the soldier's bodies were straight, their eyes gravitated to the two men over looking the city. Hitler gazed over monuments, Italy's boss by his side. His feet tapped out a jig and he smiled to his friend who returned the gesture. Germany turned his back on the Fuhrer and marched away. Prussia had watched this and pursued his brother.

"Wait," He hissed under his breath, afraid to disturb the perpetual silence that plagued the area.

"How... How could you see him and shoot him in the head?" Germany growled,

"It wasn't Leos, it was your mind. You have to be willing to except the fact that the people are reflected in him. Sending your people to die is the same as sending him!" Prussia barked,

"The fuck it is," Germany spat, his shoulders stiffened as he increased his pace away.

"You'll get use to it brother..." Prussia said mournfully.

....................

_Bitch Seat- a term for the back seat of a motorcycle. _

_Draught Horse (Draft horse)- Both German and French armies used draught horses in battle and on farms. Germans however had fewer draught horses in comparassion to their riding horses. France has a very large selection of Draught horses._

_Italy was not originally involved in the fighting of France until June I believe.  
_

_R&R please :D, it helps me write ^^. The next chapter will be happier with Italy fluff cause he needs the love._


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer-** I do not own hetalia

**Note- **Thank you for all the wonderful reviews :D

....................

Italy tucked the corners of the blanket around Leos' body. It was one of the things Italy prided himself on doing better than Germany. Everything was so routine and mechanical, it worked but it was boring. Italy cracked open a book and sat on the edge of the bed. Leos held his Lamb to his cheek and smiled as Italy began to read. The ink on the pages was so old, Italy made up half the story. It began with a lost duck but ended with a sheep, which Italy thought was a 'cuter' animal.

"And so the little lamb cuddled up to her Shepard and they lived happily ever after," Italy plucked the first cliche from his mind. Leos smiled and flopped his head to the side. Italy leaned over and kissed his forehead,

"You are a good boy, Leos. Pleasant dreams," He whispered as he twisted the knob on the lamp. It flickered off, enveloping the room in darkness. He shut the door, pausing for a moment before deciding to leave it open a crack. Instead of sulking to his room he silently crept down the stairs and into Germany's office. He sat in the large chair and pressed against it's fabric, breathing in the scent.

"Germany," He muttered.

..............

"Papa! Paaapaaa!" Leos called as he walked though the ash field. His body covered in sores, flesh shivering on his bones. Around him was a large concrete courtyard that meet with a rail way. Barbed wired and steel fencing surrounded the area beyond the walls. The bleak sky was cut but chimneys that produced a gritty cloud and odor of the foulest sewage. A weak grunt came from the right,

"Papa!" Leos ran to Germany who was face down in the ash. Soot covered his uniform, his hair a wreck. Leos crawled and held his father's head up. Only one blue eye stared bad at him, the other was covered in bandages. His arm was in a cast, his chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.

"Le...Leos... I'm okay..." He said, Leos shook his head and wrapped himself around his fallen father. "I... I just... Need... some... re-rest..." Germany coughed, from his mouth black smoke leaked and soot splattered. Leos tucked himself under his father's large broken arm and cuddled to his chest. The gurgle of fluid filled lungs was his lullaby as they feel asleep. Germany's blue iris clouding, his lids surrendered to gravity and his eyes closed. The ash began to clump around their bodies, clinging to their skin in an oily manner. Leos began to struggle as the it piled up against them, his mouth and lung began to fill.

"Papa, Papa, get up, Papa, Papa!"He pushed his face to Germany's cold chest and breathed the last bit of fresh air from his uniform. The ash began to pour at a rate of a blizzard, blotting out the silvery blonde and flaxen hair of the two.

Leos stiffened in his sleep and let out a fragile squeak. From his back and trickled of blood seep through the sheets and stained unto the mattress. Leos did not wake.

..................

Germany stood in front of his home. The sky was still dark, only the half set moon illuminated the area. The forest was silent, his home did not stir, there was a peace about the area that he relished in for a few moments. He touched the brass knob, turning it softly to avoid making noise. Once his silent entry was complete he began to devise s plan to slip into bed unnoticed. A quick gaze to a near by clock showed the time of three in the morning. Even though sleep was dragging his lids down, he contemplated leaving to do something for a few hours before returning at a decent time. Perhaps a fishing boat would be shifting out with whom he could barter with for some fresh fish, or better yet catch something himself.

He turned around but was paralyzed by a weak squeal from upstairs. His ears twitched as he registered the faint cry, it's pattern a familiar one that Leos wept during nightmares. He peeled his boots off and hung his coat. Stripping to his under shirt and long under pants he ascended the stair case. He peeked through the crack in the door to see Leos still appeared to be asleep and that his cries were not intentional. Debating whether to enter the room or not he stood in the hall. Surely, it would rose a sleeping Italy should he wake Leos up. But he felt anxious to be with both Italy and his son.

"Ger... Germany?" A whisper came from behind him, flinching slightly he calmed when he saw Italy's drowsy eyes reflect in the moon light.

"Italy," He whispered back. Italy's eyes began to flood over with tears,

"I... I'm sorry, I was useless, I tried b-but-"

"Shhhh," Germany said,

"I was a-a bad friend... You do so much fo-or me and I ca-couldn't do that wa-one little thing," Italy's voice cracked as he tried to hold his tears back.

"Italy, please,"

"Pa-please don't be mad, I-I'll do anything, I-" Germany's hand grasp his friend's face, his thumb wiped away the tears from his face. Germany sighed softly, their bodies becoming closer. Their foreheads touched and they leaned on each other, lips hovering. Germany felt the unsteady breath of his friend against his face. Pressing his lips in, he pulled away,

"I am not mad Italy... I am just very happy to be home." Germany whispered. He forced a tired smile on his face and reassured Italy with gentle eyes that he was sincere. Italy smiled and wrapped himself around the muscular male.

"I'm happy Germany is home too," He said into his chest. Another weak cry came from the room they stood in front of, both men looked anxiously at each other.

"He's fine, I think it's just his dreams... Should I wake him?" Germany asked,

"He would want to see you," Italy said,

"Has he been good?" Italy chuckled softly at this question,

"He's been a little sick but otherwise okay." Germany nodded and pushed open the door. He sat on the side of the bed and placed his large hand over his son's tiny body, rubbing soothing circles on his side. The whimpers began to fade and a calm came over the unconscious boy. After some time, his eye's fluttered and he looked over his shoulder at the person touching him. A painful yet joyous cry escaped the boy's lungs as he pounced on his father. Instantly the tears flowed as he wrapped himself around Germany's torso. Placing his hand on Leos' back and another on his head he held the boy tightly and nuzzled against him. Forced to calm down by his choking lungs, Leos pulled back slightly to look at his father. Taking his shirt Germany wiped the tears and snot from Leos' face and kissed each cheek.

"I'm home,"

..................

Italy and Leos had left Germany to sleep in, swiftly disposing of the alarm clock in his room. Italy hoped that the deep bags under his eyes would heal with a long sleep and a good meal, which they were preparing in the kitchen. Leos was snapping fresh beans and removing the stems. Italy had begun to doctor up a pot of boiling water with herbs to make up for the lack of butter. Struggling to scrape the last bit of dripping from a tin can on the counter, Italy managed to get enough to fry some wursts and a bit of potatoes. The scent of fresh breads and muffins filled the air, of which all was to be devoured. Both of them struggled not to pick tidbits off the plates as the food was prepared.

Finally after long hours of baking, frying, and boiling the feast was ready. For a touch of class Italy broke out some parsley and garnished the dishes. Just as the spread was laid out, Germany drifted down the stairs.

"Papa!" Leos jumped form his seat and glued himself to Germany's leg.

"Germany, we prepared a feast to celebrate your return. Do you like it?" Italy asked, Germany was still rubbing his eyes. Breathing deep he smiled,

"I smells delicious," He said as he took a seat, Leos next to him and Italy across. Passing the plates around the family waited to each person had their portion before disregarding all politeness and woofing down their food like starved beasts. Rations on the battlefield were just enough, but being so stressed Germany had handed his meal off to a hungry soldier and hadn't eaten in at least a day. Leos himself was less inclined to eat when his Papa was gone, while Italy was the opposite and drowned his sorrows in constant eating of small tidbits. Only after the last roll was gone did they focus on something other than their plates.

"I was thinking," Germany began, "Since the ground is no longer frozen, we can start that garden you talked about Italy." Italy smiled,

"Really? Oh, lets plant lots of tomatoes and garlic and herbs and we should plant potatoes too, and-"

"We need to plant them when they will grow though, Italy. I think Tomatoes are still good to plant, perhaps some peas." He said.

"How much land do you own Germany?" Italy asked,

"My yard? It's less than an acre, all around us is protected land owned by the government. Even beyond the mountains," He said,

"So we need to plan carefully since space is limited... How about using the perimeter for vine crops and then closer in for thing like potatoes?"

"Sounds good, but we need compost, as well as room to turn it... It also needs to be as far away from the home and well as possible." Germany said. The last thing they needed was contaminated water teeming with rotting material. Italy paused for a moment.

"Lets keep it in a container lined with a rubber mat and layers of canvas. We can shovel out what we need but it will be protected from leaching and we can watch the temperature better." Italy suggested. Germany smiled,

"It sounds like you have been think about this longer than this morning," Germany said. Italy shrugged, smiling.

......................

Italy had been digging through the back shed in search of some tools. There was plenty of wood, some wire and a crude plow. After further disorganizing Germany's possessions, he found some nails, a hammer, old canvas, and some hardware. To his left and right were piles of what Italy considered unimportant for the time being, the piles were just as tall as the nation that discarded them. Italy stood up in triumph, some rubber lining for doors in his hands. He opened his mouth to shout his victory to Germany when he caught a glimpse of his comrade at his drill set up.

He watched Germany look over his mess of barbed wire, wooden walls, ropes and obstacles. Sighing, he began to stretch and warm his muscles before working. The Italian watching the entire time.

_Why did I get so close to him the other night?_ Germany thought, his mind was flooded with voices he rather not hear. Though rarely did he wish to work out his body so hard after such a long battle, it was the only thing that was going to silence the crude suggestions his mind mumbled to his brain. He balled his emotions and thoughts into a neat ball, shoved it in some pit in his subconscious, and began working. Nothing but how to conquer the next obstacle in his way was registering.

For minutes he enjoyed a quiet mind, relieving the stresses on his course. He came to the wall, hurling toward it. His large hands wrapped around the ropes and he pulled himself up, his boots against the walls face. There was a creak, and a snap, the rope slacked and Germany fell victim to gravity. He rubbed his head as he sat up, muttering a curse under his breath. Dirt stuck to his sweat soaked body, try as he might to brush it from his hands. From the side a flash of white shot by him and jumped against the wall.

Leos clung to the top of the wooden boundary, pulling his body over the top. The wall was only slightly taller than Germany, just enough to work the muscles for the large man, but for a boy it was not proportionate. Regardless Leos had somehow managed to leap high enough to reach the gaps in between the slats of wood and throw his tiny body over the wall. In a half controlled fall, the boy hit the ground and took off to finish the course.

"L-Leos!" Germany ran around the wall to make sure he had seen correctly. Italy, who had run out of the shed when Germany fell, was laughing on the side lines at a dumbfounded Germany. Leos continued to the end of the course before turning around. Panting he smiled and wen to his father.

"Papa, I did it... I did... The course..." He breathed, Germany scooped up his son and checked him over to make sure he wasn't hurt. Italy patted Germany on the shoulder,

"Germany, you worry so much!" He said.

......................

"Germany makes a good Ox, Ve," Italy smiled. The old plow, made to be pulled by a single draft animal, instead was being dragged by Germany. Rigging it so he could pull it over his shoulder, Italy was on the plow working it into the ground. Germany's muscles flexed with each step, his power evident by his ability to tear the earth with the plow. Italy watched from behind as his friend marched along, sweat oiling his skin. Leos followed along side his father. The mild day was warm enough for Germany to remove his shirt, but he encouraged his son to keep his on. A painful look had spread across his face when the first rib was visible and Germany's gentle hand pushed the shirt back down.

"This should be plenty Germany, besides its time for a nap." Italy said, looking back they had only prepared enough land for a harvest worth of tomatoes. Germany frowned at first but was beginning to feel his muscle strain. Thinking about the pile of paperwork on his desk, he agreed with Italy.

As they walked in the phone began to ring, Germany ran to catch it.

"Hello... Yes, how are they?... Their training is complete? Good... Oh... Already?... Well of course its for the good of the Fuhrer... No, its fine I understand completely... Can I at least see them before they go?... Thank you... Yes, that will be fine... Heil Hitler," Germany hung up the phone, sighing. Italy leaned into his office,

"Germany?" He asked,

"My dogs completed their training, but they are called into duty to work at the-" Germany sealed his lips, biting his tongue till it felt it was going to rip open.

"Work where?"

"...With the police," He lied, "I asked to see them once more, I am going this afternoon to the kennel..." Germany said.

"I'm sorry Germany, I know how much they mean to you." Italy said, Germany just nodded and sat at his desk.

.................

Germany had expected the kennel to look like any other city kennel for training dogs. But as they pulled up to the gates the realization of what the dogs had been taught to do was far from what they pictured. The barbed wire gates sealed off a dirt field that was stranded in the middle of nowhere. Small barracks were constructed from huts and guards stood at each door. The dogs were in plain chain link kennels, looking content in their surroundings. When the family stepped out of the car the soldiers hailed and opened the gate. Both Italy and Leos held unto each other, an eerie chill nipped at their spines.

"Papa, I don't like it here," Leos whispered, Germany ignored him only because the true response was that he himself didn't enjoy the place either. Sighing he glanced over the kennels and saw the golden coat of one of his dogs. Calling his name the dog perked up and launched himself against the kennel door, barking for his master. When this happened two other dogs followed suit, their tails wagging hard enough to move their rump from side to side. Germany immediately opened the kennel, the golden dog rolled over and wriggled happily under his owner's petting. The other dogs whined for their turn and he released them from their cages. Italy and Leos had not followed, letting Germany have his time. While the other too where occupied, the Shepard's ear stood erect. It's eyes set on Italy and Leos. Without hesitation it began a stalking posture, moving silently, it's eyes targeting.

"Blackie!" Italy smiled, but the dogs tail was high and stiff. Leos' eyes met the dog's and fear boiled in the boy's stomach. The dog took off, barking a dreadful threat as he ran. Leos cowered behind Italy with a cry. The dog opened its jaws and lunged forth, it's fangs flashing into Leos' face.

Suddenly the dog let out a yelp and fell back. Germany had it by the leather collar, but after the shock of the pull was forgotten the dogs yanked at his master, snarling and biting at Leos. The other dogs came from behind.

"Halt!" Germany commanded, the Dog's stopped in their tracks, except the Shepard who relentless defied Germany. Fixated on the weak child, he could not break his stare. The soldiers ran to leash the other two obedient dogs and then assisted in dragging the Shepard back to the Kennel. Snarling, frothy saliva dripped from the canine's mouth as he paced the kennel, his eyes still on Leos.

Germany knelt and quickly examined Leos as he shivered. Tear's pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"It's okay, calm down, did he hurt you?" Germany asked. Leos appeared to be shaken, but the dog had not bitten him. Leos straightened himself up, and nodded. Italy watched the once gentle dog he knew pace like a rabid beast in a cage.

"Germany... What did they do to him?" Italy asked, Germany held his breath a moment then sighed.

"Trained them... But not WELL APPARENTLY!" Germany's deep voice echoed through the kennel. Most of the dogs sunk back into their enclosures. A uniformed man swiftly approached.

"I apologize, though they have been doing well the Shepard has taken a lust for the job and tends to get carried away. I had no idea you were escorting a Jew here or I would have-"

"A WHAT?!" The man instantly stepped back from Germany's shout. Gritting his teeth, Germany's hand's balled into tight fists that burned with heat.

"He. is. my. Son." He seethed,

"I am so sorry, he appeared so... Tiny... I assumed he was selected from the-"

"Silence!" Germany ordered, the man shut his mouth quickly, "What did you do to my dogs?" He hissed,

"They are going to work in the..." The man eyed Italy and the boy before swallowing hard, "New neighborhoods, they need to be taught who is the enemy." He answered simply, although his fingers shook. Germany covered his face with his hand.

"Let's go," Germany breathed, Italy ran to start the car. Leos clung his father's pant leg.

"Papa, I'm sorry," He whispered, a strong hand brushed his hair.

"It's not your fault... Don't be sorry," He said. As they turned to leave a whistle went off, the men lined up for a drill. Germany was pushing his son along, but before the iron bar gates sealed behind them Leos saw a gangly man being dragged out of one of the huts. Thrown on the ground they released the Shepard who shot towards him. Germany, turned slightly and shoved Leos' face into his leg to blind him. He pressed his ears and cut off all ability to comprehend what his dog was doing to the man. Quickly Germany shoved his son into the back seat. Italy was facing the road, his back turned to the horror.

"Go, drive, get me away from here Italy."

...................

Germany had pushed the sadness that gripped him down deep into his chest and instead worked on the garden. The physical labor of tilling and fertilizing the soil kept his mind off the events that had happened in the latter part of the day. Italy was by his side, following him and planting little seeds. Leos was in the front yard on his swing, leaving the two men alone. Italy was silent for quiet a while, unsure of what to say or how to read his friend's mood. Germany's brows were still frowned though the rest of his face was calm. Finally, he found the courage to speak,

"Germany... I'm sorry that happened to your dogs, I really am." He said, Germany stopped working.

"Italy," Is all he said before continuing his work. Italy frowned and continued to drop little seeds into the earth and cover them with soil. Germany let himself get lost in his work, his mind shutting down all outside thought as he focused solely on his goal. His meditation was again disturbed when Italy suddenly wrapped himself around him.

"Don't be sad! Please! I want Germany to be happy! You go through so much just-" Italy continued to wail on but Germany's chest grew warm. He felt the blood rush to his face as Italy squeezed his torso tighter. Before allowing his thoughts to wander to indecencies he gently pushed Italy back. Forcing a smile on his face he comforted the Italian.

"I know Italy, It's okay... I like working... It makes me appreciate what I have," Germany reasoned.

"But, but what is you treasure so much?" Italy asked,

_You_ he thought, _Leos, my country..._ He cut off his unspoken list, as anymore silence would have been awkward.

"I like to come home and see you everyday. I like to see Leos playing in the front yard. As much as I miss my private time alone in bed I do enjoy the nights we sleep as a family. I love the fact I can say I have a family because many people now do not have one... Does that answer your question?" He said. Italy was quiet for a moment, a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, Germany can be so sweet sometimes!" He exclaimed,

"Yes, Yes, now can we get back to work?"

.....................

Leos had fallen asleep on the couch, Italy held his hand over his forehead and frowned. Brushing some stray bits of hair from the boy's face he sighed.

"Leos is out cold, he's a bit warm too. I don't think we should wake him." Italy said as he returned to the table. Germany nodded in agreement, turning his attention too his plate of food. Italy was making a plate for Leos for later consumption and Germany waited for him to be seated before taking a bite of his food. Germany began to eat at a slow pace, slow enough for Italy to notice. Double checking to be sure his food was palatable, he wondered why his friend was so sluggish.

"Is your portion alright?" Italy asked,

"Oh, its just wonderful Italy," He said,

"Is something wrong?"

_I am_ Germany's mind muttered, he shook his head and pushed the little voice away.

"If anything was wrong, you'd let me help right?" Italy asked,

"Of course, of course..." Germany said, before Italy would prod further Germany distracted him, "So Italy, have you ever grown tomatoes before?" His question ignited a never ending conversation that for some reason, Germany absorbed. He focused solely on Italy, the way his lips moved, his bright eyes as he recalled fond memories. Italy stopped after a moment noticing his friend's stare.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I just wish I could find such joy in those things... It's an admirable trait," Germany answered,

"Oh, my something must be wrong, Germany complimented me. Don't worry, a good nights sleep and some potatoes will fix you."

"I'm fine, but I have been rather brisk with you lately. I hope it hasn't weaken our friendship." Germany said,

"Ve, I know Germany is very busy, I can not be selfish and feel bad about it because he's protecting me." Italy said. Germany chuckled lightly and wiped his face. The empty plate before him had been enough to fill him and he skipped his usual seconds.

............

When Leos protested being woken up, Germany carried him to his bed and changed him into more comfortable clothing. He slipped off the boy's shirt and cringed at his ribs and spine. The way his collar bones protruded from his pale flesh. This was the first time he could truly observe his son without him twisting away. He took note of the scars that were dotted over his tiny form. Some were long thin cuts, from a knife, others looked like burns or brands. He buttoned up the front of his shirt and then began to undo the suspenders. His son's legs were thin, but surprisingly strong as he rebelled to his leg being pulled. Germany pulled the blankets over Leos and tucked them under his body.

"Good night," He whispered as he kissed his forehead, "Feel better,"

Slinking under the covers Germany folded his behind his head and stared at the ceiling. Italy was in the bathroom washing up. He listened to the other man squish a damp clothe across his face and adjust the facets. The flickering light from the bathroom shone on the part of the ceiling Germany looked at, he watched his friends shadow move about the room. The light flicked off, darkness cloaked the room. Germany felt Italy sit on the bed and curl up in the blanket.

"Good night, Germany," He said,

"..."

"Germany?"

"..."

"Ve?"

"... Italy... What do you think about?" He asked,

"Eh? Don't I tell you all the time?" Italy responded,

"No, I mean... What do you _think_ about. Not thoughts that pop into your head, I mean what is it that makes you ponder?" Germany asked. Italy rolled on his side to face his friend. The blonde's hair was highlighted by the moonlight, his eyes half open.

"Art, art makes me think." Italy said, Germany nodded, "What makes Germany think?" He asked,

"Music," He answered, "German songs..."

"You like your language,"

"I love it... It's... Beautiful, but not the same way as others are... I guess it's like looking at a painting that you like but others do not."

"I like many paintings that others do not... But paintings are not my favorite at all." Italy said.

"Oh, What is?" Germany asked. Italy held himself up and crawled over to Germany. Laying as close as possible, without actually be on top of him, he placed one of his long fingers on Germany's collar bone. He ran it down his friend's chest and around to the ribs which were layered in tight muscles.

"Sculpture," Italy said, "Maybe that is why I like Ludwig so much... You are like a sculpture..." Italy said. Germany sighed,"Sculptures are so strong if you leave them be... But if disturbed, they crumble." Italy said somberly. "Throughout history, many of my favorite monuments have fallen, statues of perfection that my citizens worked on so hard are nothing but rubble. I don't want to loose another one." Italy's fingers wrapped around Germany's arm. He felt the muscles and tendons of the stronger man tense, but then relax. Germany turned his head and rested his chin above Italy's on the pillow.

....................

_I do not know which dogs are which but I will assume blackie is the Shepherd dog and a play on Blondie (Hitler's GSD)._

_If you like please Review :D Let me know which parts are your favorite or which ones make you worried or think will be significant, this will let me know if I have written my intended scenes properly : )_

_It may get touchy from here on on certain things but I will have a warning on which chapters will be heavy and which ones will be lighter._


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer- I do not Hetalia_

_Note- Historical notes and background information at the bottom of the chapter. This chapter was not originally part of the plot but the next chapter is extremely, extremely, heavy and need more set up. As for this chapter, rape implied/prostitution so I apologize ahead of time. please R&R : )_

****

Germany was ripped from his world of dreams when a flash of warmth plagued him. The heat had cause him to sweat, giving him a labored breathing. When his sense returned he realized it was Italy's body heat making him uncomfortable. He turned his back to the Italian, making him question why he got so close in the first place. He sat up to ponder for a moment.

_Why?_ He asked himself.

_I don't know..._

_ I like it._

_ No, I can't like it, it is not proper. Not procedure, unexceptionable! It's just one of those things I will have to push aside for the greater good. How selfish of me to indulge in such acts, especially with another male. I should oppress these thoughts... _

_ They will kill me,_

_ Yes,_

_ But why do I still want to defy?... Human nature I suppose, to be insubordinate, but I am so comfortable in my discipline... I do not want to change... Perhaps this is an inborn desire of mine?_

_ NO, it is just as I've been taught it has always been. Wrong, those males who lust for males are disabled! The literature on the subject has always made sense to me... Besides I lust for women far more. My private collection would account for that without question._

_ Then is this just friendship?Am I so social inept that I can not tell between love and friendship?_ Germany shook his thoughts from his head. Glancing at the clock he stood up. It was four in the morning, late enough to go for an early morning run. He slipped into his work out pants, being extra careful not to wake Italy. In the dark, aided by the moonlight, he combed his hair back and tidied himself a bit before slipping from the room. He walked down the stairs, glancing over his shoulder to look at Leos sleeping soundly in his bed.

As he prepared to leave, the cat had come down the stairs and sat at the door. The moment it opened the cat squeezed itself past Germany and bound into the forest. He wondered for a moment the last time the cat was let outside.

He set his stop watch and took off. His usual pace was so drilled into him that his body went on autopilot. His vision tunneled, the forest became nothing but a green blur, only the center point of the road was clear. His nostrils flared, his mouth releasing his breathe, heart pumping in a steady rhythm, the hot blood rushing to his legs and arms. A breeze swept along the path and coolly caressed his hot skin. He sighed at the relief but continued his journey. Down the path the dirt road became cobble, his boots fell heavy against the stone as he focused on a new target, the port.

ooooooooooooooo

Though he reached the port in record time, he wanted to continue running. For some reason the two mile trek, in a mere fifteen minutes, didn't satisfy him. He back tracked a bit and thought a jog through the town and down to the dairy farms may add to his new record. As he began down the path the church bells began to ring, people poured from the doors, sobbing. He slowed his pace to walk, his curiosity peeked from this early morning service. Last to exit, was a tiny coffin, held by what Germany assumed to be the father and the older male children. He then noticed something unusual, his cat sitting on the stone railings, watching the funeral. After the coffin left and was on it's way to the cemetery across the street the cat followed.

"You what they say, cats are the bringers of death," Germany jumped at the voice, "What? Did west drop his guard?" Prussia chuckled.

"What on earth are your doing here at this ungodly hour?" Germany asked. His brother was in full uniform, a sword in place of his gun, smirking at his younger brother.

"Well, I've been reassigned to be closer to this village and today the only train leaving for here was this early... Almost all of us are getting new positions as this war advances." Prussia said, "In fact I'm here to deliver some news to you, so all the better we ran into each other. Especially lacking your little pet." He added. Germany grunted and folded his arms across his chest, his face unamused by his brother's teasing.

"Well, old tight ass is assigning both of use new jobs. Or rather the same job with a different set of responsibilities added. Instead of going to war, you and me will be in charge of data collection and submitting reports to high ranking officers... Would you like to speaking somewhere not in the open?" Prussia said, Germany looked around. Aside from the crowd lowing the small coffin into the ground no one seemed out of place. Germany just nodded, following his brother into the church.

Desolate from the ceremony, Prussia walked to a far corner, away from the doors and sat on the last pewter. For a moment he looked troubled, his crimson eyes reflecting the hues of the stained glass, his mouth curved down.

"In lue of fighting in the war, we have been assigned the task of going to the new camps and ghettos to collect data. Our job is to reformat and submit it to high ranking officers as well as comb it for unusual details which need attention. Because not all the camps may communicate with each other, we must correlate information and figures to track an over all success of the camps. Most of the funding stats will come to us too which me must distribute properly as well as manage possible expansion. In short it is a boring job of paperwork, I can't claim anyone's regions, and we have to drag ourselves to those camps in an never ending quest for numbers. You still hold some power for strategy during conflict but you are not to be on the battle field unless ordered...They are knocking us from power..." Prussia said, "So, I devised a plan. I will do the traveling and you do all the figuring." He announced.

"So, you get pick up pieces of paper while I do the grunt work?" Germany asked,

"Do you really want to visit those places? I mean, your going to have to anyway for introductions and then tight ass's mandatory witness business but other than that... Do you truly wish to spend your days in places like that?" Prussia punctuated. Germany was silent. He hadn't had much to do with any of the actual plans besides a brief overview, which he drifted in and out of, so Prussia had much more information on what his boss considered a vital tool.

_Is he sparing me something? Or just trying to get the easier job?_ Germany thought.

"I guess not," Germany muttered,

"Good," Prussia said, "Now, how is Italy? Leos?"

"Italy is fine, I handle all his paperwork... His military is failing miserably, but Feliciano himself his chipper as could be." Germany said,

"Eh, since your command over military has dropped I think you'll be getting less of his paperwork... Leos?"

"He has been sick,"

"Oh, with what?"  
"I think it's just a cold, but he has sporadic moments of energy. I think he has even gained weight and muscle. However he seems to have a fever and gets exhausted easy." Germany explained.

"Medications?"

"Takes them as prescribed,"

"So... Have you read his files?" Prussia asked,

"Only the ones that were marked for me." Germany shrugged,

"You realize those are all false, to maintain the boy's identity a secret." Prussia said,

"I figured that, but is it so important I know?" There was a pause, Prussia folded his arms and closed his eyes.

"I suppose not... So long as he is not having any issues. I must say it is easier to understand his shyness when you understand his past... It's also easier too look him in the face." Prussia said.

"What does that mean?"

"... Sometimes sentiment gets in the way of raising a child right, brother... So-"

"Stop speaking in circles," Germany demanded,

"Fine," Prussia spat, "Let me give you a taste of what Leos has been through. His mother was a whore. A prostitute. After the empire fell she turned the house she worked in into a private brothel right under my nose. When Leos was born she almost starved him to death, then she decided he was too much of an asset to let die. She worked in a brothel after all, everything was for sale..." Prussia paused, his eyes becoming unfocused before drawing himself back into reality. His eyebrows forced together so hard they looked as if they were going to meet. "It's hard sometimes to remember Leos is the personification of the people. But sometimes its even harder to remember he is also a boy, who has been through horrific things... While Leos was with me I felt useful, like I had something to protect again. These past decades have not been my greatest... He gave me the same hope you did when you were a child..." Prussia composed himself, "But war is war right? Got to win." He gave a smirk to his brother.

Germany's head was spinning with scenarios from Prussia's words. Noticing his brother was off on a thinking spell he quickly snapped him out of it a kick to his boot.

"Hey, he's okay now. Read his files if you want, but now that your spending more time at home I suggest trying to make something of the fucked up family you got... when this war is over it may be all your have." Prussia stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Until we have to go to the camps, my brother." He bid farewell and turned his back on his brother. The click of his boots echoing through the church as he left.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Although his workout had been ruined by even more thoughts, when Germany finally dragged himself home he was too tired to think much about anything. Perhaps he would indulge, slightly, in one of the siesta's Italy would whine about come the afternoon. The sun was already over the trees and lighting up his little home. The windows were open in the kitchen, the cling of pots and pans chimed all the way to the yard.

After hanging his coat and taking off his shoes Germany leaned on the arch and watched for a moment as Italy cooked, humming a tune that Leos attempted to follow. While in the kitchen, Leos was fused to Italy at the hip, which was proving problematic as Italy tried to remove some hot oil.

"Leos, don't be underfoot, come," He said. Leos shot from Italy's side to his father's with a smile.

"Germany! When did you get in?" Italy asked,

"Just a moment ago," He said ruffling his son's hair. "Feeling better?" He asked. Leos nodded wrapped his fingers around his father's large palm.

"Papa, what are all those weird symbols in the cabinet in the office for?" Leos asked,

"Those are medals I have acquired over the years for accomplishing certain things." Germany said,

"May I see them? I can't see the top ones," Leos asked,

"Of course," He lead Leos to the cabinet and picked him up. His eyes gleaming in the reflection of the glass. Germany watched him marvel at the shimmering metal through his reflection, smiling as he looked at himself with Leos in his arms.

"This is the one I see around town now." Leos pointed at the Hakenkreuz, "It looks so heavy," He said. Germany slid the sliding glass aside and took the medal from it's hanger. He let the boy stand on his own feet before handing him the medal. Leos pulled it over his head, his thin neck arched as the heavy iron pulled down. He slid it back off,

"It's really heavy," Leos said handing back to his father, "How about your necklace Papa? Is it as heavy as that one?" He asked. Germany reached up to his neck and traced the leather strap to the iron cross that lay on his chest.

"No, this one is a bit lighter, here-" He pulled it form his neck and reached around the back of Leos. Tying it in a secure knot he rested his hand on his sin's head. "Now you have a medal," Germany said. Leos' cheeks filled as a smile spread across his face.

"Really? But why? I don't go fighting like you,"

"You've been brave, and half the medals in my case are for bravery..." He said. Leos wrapped his arms around Germany and squeezed him.

"Thank you Papa!" He cupped the iron cross in his hands and inspected every inch of it. "Papa, does Mr. Italy get a medal?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Mr. Italy, does he get one? He does so much work." Germany looked off to the side for a moment. Would Italy even know what a medal of honor was? Perhaps a different gift would be more suitable. Germany's mind got to work thinking about a suitable object. Standing up he went to his desk, pulled out the bottom draw and filled his pen with ink. Leos peered over the table, watching his father's perfect hand writing, his diligence to keep all his letters in alignment but he wrote with his left hand as oppose to his right. Germany then turned and took of the frames off the wall, removed his certificate and framed what he had written out. From another draw he pulled out a large packing envelope, signed the address to his home and then the from address to some mess of words Italy wouldn't have been able to pronounce and sealed it.

Smiling he tucked the package under his arm and patted Leos' head.

"Shhh, this came from the mail not me." He said. Leos nodded and smiled widely as he fallowed his father back into the kitchen. Italy had just set out the plates of food when they walked into the room.

"Italy, this came for you in the mail today." Germany said, his face as stoic as ever.

"Ve? For me?" Italy set the pan aside and took the package from Germany. He unwrapped the string and pulled out the frame.

"Oh! Look Germany! Its a plaque!"

"Oh, is it? What does it say?"

"For your priceless servitude to the fatherland, we are forever grateful for your services... It's singed some odd name, I can't make it out... But look, I did something worth while!" Italy said,

"You deserve it Italy, we should hang it somewhere special. How about the mantel?" Germany suggested. Italy's face light up,

"Really? You'll hang it there?"

"I'm proud of you Italy, you really take up the slack in this home and I want everyone to know it." Germany said.

The plaque hung proudly above the mantel, lesser medals and awards below it gazing up at it's glory. The fire underneath clapped and whistled, flaring it's yellow fingers up. At least, this is how Italy saw it. For a moment the family stood to cherish the moment in silence. A pawing at the door and a howling meow broke Germany from the scene. He let the cat in who waltz by him as if he were the master, licking his lips clean of some kind of food it had scavenged.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

With the silent ceremony over the family returned to their plates and devoured the food. Each of them took a biscuit and sopped up the left over juices from the wurst and eggs. Licking the porcelain clean, all of them sighed and rested their hands on their stomachs.

"I have some news," Germany said, "I will no longer be in charge of the military, except to run ideas by and give opinions. Instead I will be spending more time at home doing some classified work."

"So Papa gets to spend more time at home?" Leos asked,

"Yes, it would appear so," Germany said,

"Yay,"

"Germany, since you'll be home more, we can work on the garden! We can get twice as much food from it with your help. Oh, and we can-" Italy trailed on, Germany tuned him out as he thought about what mountains of paperwork would need tending.

"Ve, Germany... Germany... Germany?" Italy called, Germany snapped back into reality.

"Huh, sorry, I got lost in thought, what was that last bit?"

"We should go into town and pick up more seeds," Italy said,

"Of course, we can also pickle or preserve food so we should grow as much as possible." Germany said.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Germany was in a slight daze, his eyes glazed over as he was dragged around town by Italy. His thoughts had made him fret to the point of shutting down.

_Now that I have little control over the military... I do not choose where we go._ Germany thought, _Surely I was competent enough. Have I not been victorious so far? True France took a bit, but it's France. Poland was a push over... Could they be wanting to do some things I would not agree with? No, it's my job to agree. Perhaps it's something more... Personal..._

"Germany, are you okay?" Italy asked,

"Hmm? Oh, I apologize, I was just thinking..." Germany answered, "Do you have everything we need?" Italy looked down at the hastily cradled objects in his arms.

"I think so, I couldn't find any beets though,"

"That's okay, we have some still in storage so until they get in stock we needn't worry." Germany said. Germany cringed when Italy brought all the items to the register. Some he pulled aside, knowing he could make the very same object for free. The final damage was almost as much as it would've cost for them to eat out. Germany's eye twitched as he handed over the money.

"Leos," Germany called, noticing the boy was not glued to his side. He was staring at little sweets behind the glass window of the baking section. The little store had just enough room for a bit of everything, even a bit of sweets which were so rare to come by. The boy marveled more that the rarity, than the desire to have one. Even at his age, he understood the which numbers were too high on certain objects and retreated.

The pseudo family had just rounded the corner when he froze. Looking like a fool with his boot hovering above the street he pretended it had bothered him and stretched it a bit. His eyes however stayed focused on a little red booth set up right next to them, a group of young boy handing out pamphlets eagerly approached him. A man in uniform stood behind them, recognizing a military man he hailed Germany who returned the gesture.

"Good morning sir," The man greeted, "We are recruiting more children to join our youth organization." His eyes fell to Leos, Germany instinctively shifted his leg so it was in front of his son, putting himself between him and the man. Italy, too, subconsciously drifted behind Germany. The man looked at Leos and nodded. His eyes began to scrutinize every detail of the fragile boy. Looking suspiciously at him.

"Is you son ill? There are free doctors at the clinic once a month if you are concerned." The man said.

"He was ill, but now he is recovering."

"Ah, very good then. Once he is strong again, he can come participate in some events and join the H.J,"

"My son is too young," Germany stated simply.

"Indeed, but it's never too young to start teaching him the basic survival principles, here take a pamphlet and here is a list of events free for German youth. All of your children can attend, and if cost is a concern our Fuehrer will see to it that is is no burden." He smiled. Germany nodded, taking the folded papers from the man. For a moment the two men locked eyes, sternly staring at one another. Tension building in the air. Finally, the other man backed away from Germany's dominating presence and politely hailed. Germany guided his family away, making sure Italy was nothing further than a breathe away.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Once home Germany quickly disposed of the pamphlet in the fireplace. His tension melting as the flames eagerly devoured the paper flesh. Sighing he shrugged off his coat and sat for a moment. He laid his head back and covered his face with his hands, stretching his shoulders comfortably. Italy sat next to him, fumbling with his own jacket.

"Germany, what is that?" Italy asked, Germany parted his fingers to look at his friend.

"What?" He grunted,

"That," Italy leaned over and pressed his hand right over the side of Germany's ribs. A dark read spot was growing and staining his shirt. Without any regard for Germany's personal space he pulled up his shirt to look closer at the injury.

"Italy!" Germany scolded as he wrestled to get his head free from the rumpled clothing Italy had flopped over him. The moment Italy touched his bare skin he seized up. The soft warm touch of the other man sent a soothing calm through him. He felt the blood rush to his head and then he quickly scooted away.

"Italy, its nothing, I didn't even feel it." Germany insisted, but Italy's stubbornness held fast as he propped the muscular limb up. It was only a superficial wound, the skin looked as if it had been rubbed off.

"Leos, get the iodine,"

"No, it doesn't even feel that bad, don't waste it on me." Germany said.

"But Germany, when you work out you sweat a lot here. It could lead to an infection." Italy leaned over the couch and took the little glass bottle and cotton from Leos. Italy leaned in, pressing the cotton against his friend's wound. Germany held his breathe as he felt the light caress of Italy's breathing against him. Italy smoothed his hand over the gauze and made sure it sealed well against the wound before letting Germany squirm away.

"Thank you," Germany said,

"Ve, no problem Germany! Leos and I are going to work on the garden, you are welcome to join us." Italy said,

"Yes, that sounds... Relaxing," He said.

"Plant them straight... No, tip down, Italy... Italy, no they will grow in crooked!" Germany and Italy had both their fingers in the small hole. The tiny seed wrestling between them.

"But, but to plant every bean like that?" Italy whined,

"We don't have enough room, fix it so its, no your pushing against me! Set up like this," The two of them undid each others work. Leos giggled quietly to himself as he watched them. Finally Germany won and placed the seed in the now oversized hole in the ground.

"Like that," He said, Italy shrugged

"Let the plants grow how they please,"

"That would make havoc in a garden, there must be order or the wasted space will result in wasted food." Germany said, "Leos, come here," Germany gestured. Handing the boy a small pile of seeds he pointed toward the fence.

"Plant these, tip down as straight as possible." He said. His son nodded and went off to the fence and began to work. Germany turned and leaned toward Italy.

"I am a bit on edge today, I apologize... Italy," He whispered,

"That's okay, I know your under tremendous pressure." Italy said, "Too tell you the truth... I am scared," Italy confessed.

"I''m sorry I scared you-"

"No, not of you... Well, sometimes, but... I'm not afraid of Ludwig right now, but I am afraid of Germany... Germany's military is so strong, it has aided me so much but they are starting to saturate my country and I hear people say terrible things about them. They can't be true, but my people are really frightened... And now that your not in charge of that, I am fear it may get worse. Cause I know Ludwig would never do something to harm a friend..." Italy said, he avoided Germany's gaze.

"Italy..." Germany muttered softly, hesitantly he moved his gloved hand over Italy's and gripped it firmly.

"I'll protect you..."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leather, that musky smell of dried flesh polished to a shine had for some reason always brought comfort to Germany. He loved how strong it was, yet how supple and flexible it could be. The most useful of fabrics, if one could categorize it as such, but he preferred to think of it as a tool. Which only made this jacket all the more grim. Prussia tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for his brother to stop staring at himself in the mirror.

"Even I'm not this self obsessed," Prussia muttered, though he meant in humor, this day would be far from it. Germany couldn't tare his eyes away from the full length mirror. The leather coat was long, hand crafted to his body. It stretched down to his boots and some how made him look taller than before. The crisp edges of the collar folded neatly down his chest and into a flap which concealed the buttons. Unlike any coat he had worn before the breast had several soft fabric patches that held his medals in place across his heart.

Making sure every last one of his hairs was in line, every bit of stubble shaved down, each one of his long fingers slid perfectly into his gloves, he presented himself to his brother. Prussia rolled his eyes,

"You're stalling," He said, Germany looked away form his brother, "Keep going," Prussia whispered.

No matter how slow the brothers were preparing, the clock went slower. They walked down stairs on time and looked at the grey car waiting to take them. Italy shadowed them, the early morning light shining in his eyes.

"Germany... Where are you going?" He asked,

"... To work," He said,

"...Ve, this early?"

"Yes... I'll be back to night, take care of Leos for me." Germany said,

"Mhm... He wasn't feeling well last night, he appeared to be sick this morning when I came down for a drink, so if it's okay I'll keep him in bed?" Germany just nodded to Italy, his turned his back on his friend and followed his brother out the door. Prussia's smaller frame seeming to struggle against some mysterious weight, as if shackles were on his feet. He dragged himself to the car, sliding over to the furthest side. The driver shifted the car into gear and the car hopped forward, tumbling down the road, all the while Prussia was still. His crimson eyes closed, flesh horridly pale, he looked dead. His body curled away from his brother, refusing to acknowledge what they were about to do. Germany watched out the window, trying to cut his rigid thoughts free for a moment to escape his reality.

****

_H.J- in English "Hitler Youth". At this point in time, it was mandatory for children age 10+ to be in H.J. (those who were eligible to attend). School teachers were rewarded for having all their students sign up. Girls too, were signed up. Hitler ordered that since it was mandatory, German families with low income were provided free HJ membership. They got everything except the uniform. The girls division and boy's divisions were very different, the boys more military while the girls did more activities and community work._

_At this time London has already been bombed, something I cut from the plot but just to give you a rough idea of the time line.  
_

_Leos is "six" years old as far as his proportions and height. He is 3 ft tall and weights 20 lbs. He should weigh 30-35 lbs and 3.3 ft tall. Children in Ghettos and concentration camps generally weighted 10-30 lbs below ideal weight before dying of starvation (depending on age, frame, etc.). Leos is a small frame so 10lbs underweight would put him looking similar to a starving child, though his face is not sunken as typical of starving people. To small children 5 lbs is the difference between the 7th percentile and the 76th percentile (getting close to obese but not unhealthy) so 10 lbs is a serious loss. To compare Ludwig should weight 160-170 lbs at 5.10 ft tall roughly assuming he is Medium frame.  
_

_Though the German army modeled itself Prussia's, the state of Prussia is becoming less and less unique. The eagle however will remain an important military symbol._

_I am not a homophobe, during that time those reported to be gay where sent to the camps. 5,000-10,000 (i think) died. It was considered along the lines of a disability but also sinful and destructing the Fatherland. Ludwig would have run the risk of being killed should any report suspicious activities, so his concerns are very real._

_The next chapter is going to be very long and Very Very Heavy, so I am warning ahead of time. _

_Sorry about the prostitution but for future reference it's important you remember that little tidbit of Leos' abusive past because it will come up later. I am not a Pedo. Pedos need to be shot.  
_

If you like please review :D I will love you.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer- **_I do not own hetalia_

**Note-** _This chapter contains **graphic scenes and sensitive material**. Please note, The historical figures portrayed in this chapter are written to their personalities. I do **not **condone or approve antisemitism or racism. Historical notes at the chapter does not necessarily take place at Auschwitz, but is a "camp" which represents multiple places and events from those places. Most of the historical figures you will meet worked in several camps. I attempted to write true to their personality that was displayed in their work atmosphere only. Again, **WARNING** sensitive material, **HEAVY ALERT!**_

_**.................  
**_

Ludwig's bones were cold, shivering under his muscles uncontrollably. His bit his lip, tensing to maintain control, averting his gaze to the floor of the vehicle. Prussia continued to face the other way, knowing what was coming up on his brother's side of the car. His vision, for the moment, was occupied by an endless flat field that was decorated with a treeline.

"Holy fuck," Prussia hissed and clammed his gloved hand over his nose. His brows knitted tightly. The scent of the car changed from clean leathers and woods to an unusual stench. Burning sewage covered in vast amounts of cooking oil was the only thing that remotely described it. Ludwig rubbed his rose, trying to take a more polite way of comforting his displeasure than cursing.

From over the hill the claws of a fence reached up. Long huts with sharp roofs peeked up. Long brick chimneys reach up to the sky, the air above them began to distort with heat. Ludwig's stomach writhed and curled inside him, protesting that they get any closer.

Suddenly a horn blew, Ludwig jumped smashing the back of his head against the low roof of the car. A train was pulling out of the station, it's vast wooden boxes guarded heavily. Prussia broke his gaze on the window to make sure his brother was alright. Ludwig took as deep of a breathe as he could before trying to recompose his stoic face. In his panic he put his hand on his small gun tucked in his belt.

The car stopped, the breaks squealing in protest. An iron gate stood before them. Ludwig looked to his brother who's unsettling eyes looked into his.

"Ready?" He asked,

"No," Ludwig breathed. Simultaneously, the brother's opened the doors of the vehicle, turned on their heels, clicked and hailed. The guards did the same, their dogs standing at attention. The gate groaned, opened for the brothers. Immediately the guards on the inside turned and hailed their superiors, forming lines on either side of them. Walking in unison the brothers began to draw attention to themselves.

Ludwig's eyes tried to keep forward, but a gravitation yanked his sight to his left. Rows of people stood, five abreast, some trembling while others looked in complete panic. Mothers gripped unto their children and called out for others. Guards kept them in a tight group, some with simple whips while others sported a handgun. One by one a person would stand before a tall man. His clean appearance and white gloves seemed almost ironic to the muddy mess around him. He gestured to the right or left. A horrid off pitch squeal buzzed in the background. A group of prisoners were playing small instruments, heavily watched by the eyes of an eager shepherd.

A deep roar came from the chimneys. Ludwig looked up, his vision spotted by little grey and black spots fluttered down on him. The orange teeth of fire bit at the pallid grey flesh of the sky, smoke bleeding from mouth of the brick beast. The flakes clumped and began to blanket the ground. A bit of the ash fell on Ludwig's cheek, under his eye, and slid down leaving an oily streak. His gloved hand touched his face and he rubbed the odd substance between his fingers. His walking pace slowed and his brother was getting ahead of him.

"FASTER!" Ludwig looked toward the scream. The people from the train had been sorted and one group was being away. Most of them women, older people, the lame and children. A young boy had fallen, no one dared to pick up him. His tiny body struggled to pick itself up. The guard that barked the command was storming toward the fallen boy. In his hands was a crop that he already had raised. Grabbing the boy's arm, the guard's whip came down on his back. The crack of the leather meeting the flesh echoed through the camp. The child wailed, pleading in a language Ludwig did not know. The whip continued to fall on him until the boy's words were inaudible cries. Throwing the boy back he screamed again.

"FASTER!" And pointed toward the direction the others were going. Shivering until he could not maintain balance the boy fell again. The guard kicked him over so his stomach was up. His boot came down on his chest, stomping on his ribs. Snaps and pops rang through Ludwig's ears, his eyes fixated. The frail hands of the child reaching up the the guard, pleading for him to stop. His answer was a rubber sole smashed against his skull. The child's pleas became more desperate, blood began to seep from his body.

Ludwig's hand drifted to the gun in his belt. His vision quivering as it tunneled. A heat in his chest built up, his rage overflowing. He went to pull the gun from his waist when a strong hand came over his wrist.

Prussia's hand wrapped firmly around his brother's joint, they struggled a minute, Ludwig unable to give in. The pleas of the child grew fainter. Ludwig's blue eyes stared into his brother's. Finally, the fight ended and Ludwig yielded to his brother's demand. His hand relax and the gun slid back into it's holster. Prussia pushed his brother along, blocking his few from the corpse.

"YOU come here and clean this up!" The guards voice struck a deep chord within Ludwig's chest. The vibration from the voice heated him, his muscles tensed, the desire to turn around and confront the man was beginning to overwhelm him again. A gangly man in a striped uniform hurried over. Ludwig bit his tongue, tensing his jaw until a salty iron taste filled his mouth.

Prussia had rushed him into the small office, quickly slamming the door. His ember eyes scanning to see if anyone was near before speaking.

"If only we could drink," He muttered. Two chairs were set out from across a plain desk. A small lamp sat next to a pile of paper work. To the left was a window that cast a weak light into the room. From the back door a string of curses was being crafted and heavy boots marched toward them. The door flung open, slamming against the wall, the man was facing out screaming at another guard.

"Make SURE that Jew rat WATCHES his children burn in the pits alive. THROW HIM IN ON TOP OF THEIR FUCKING WRITHING BODIES, THE SWINE!" The man ordered. His ears were red, knuckles white from gripping the handle so hard. Ludwig stepped back, catching his breath. He had never seen an SS officer so out of control before. Prussia had sealed off the outside world, staring blankly at the enraged man. The door slammed, shaking the contents of the office.

His hair was fair, a strong square face with a prominent jaw and forehead distinguished him from the other men. His eyes were bright, surprising round and gleaming. The flesh of his face was returning to it's pale color as he looked at the brothers.

"Ah, Gilbert and Ludwig, I am so pleased you could come." He spoke with a polite tone, "Please seat yourselves," He gestured to the chairs. Both of the brother slowly sat, their hands wrapping tightly around the arms of the chair.

"Now, it is my understanding that this is just a causal meeting and that you are only here to familiarize yourselves with our personalities and methods to aid in the accuracy of your reports, as ordered by the Fuhrer... Correct?" He said, Gilbert nodded,

"Correct, Sir," The man smiled at Gilbert's approval.

"Well then, I assure you my methods are superior to my colleagues. I've been developing a strategy long before I was asked to come here. Yes, I have a formula for these rats." He smiled.

"Were are only hear to listen and confirms that what you say parallels what you write to prevent forgery." Gilbert stated simply. The man leaned back,

"No one can do what I do, no there is only one unique Otto Moll. My style will keep these camps running smoothly and bring record numbers to your offices. You see, the vermin that are sent here are half broken. You need to brake them completely if you wish to get any labor from them. Threats are empty if you do not follow through, a man will grow numb to verbal motivation. You need to show these swine you mean it. However, there is a second side to this coin. While others witness their family burning alive, children killed, as their mind crumbles they become the perfect fuel. You see, the men who are sent to oversee this work... They have little experience in the operations of such a place. The fuel of misery and torment is what makes them truly good officers. They learn quickly to feed off the Jews, take out any frustration, fear, anger, hate, take it all out on them. Eventually, as it is human nature, they get pleasure from it once the behavior is deemed approved. They begin to get good at it. Slowly they become competitive, out do one another to be praised. It's engrained in us from birth, to seek out the approval of superiors. They become victims to their psychological desires and their brain manipulates the mind, disregarding any notions of sympathy toward the vermin. So I reward their cruelty, the more corpses the better, the more unusual display of violence the greater I praise. Let them get caught up in the competition, forget the Jews breathe and feel pain! It matters not, the Jews are useless. The only thing they are useful for is sport and release." His rant concluded as he sat back in his chair. A smirk came to his face as he glanced out the window. "Today I shot a Jew, her husband still hadn't yet learned to be silent. He cried out and broke conformation within the lines. To this I walked up calm and asked him, 'Was she your wife and a mother?' and he said yes. I asked, 'so those weeping children are hers?' and he was silent. I ordered them taken from the lines and the father as well. Before all the others I picked up the squirming Jew Rattlings and threw them into the pits. My men are seeing to it that he is now watching his children die and he will be thrown with them... A lesson for all involved, nourishment for all the brains, Jew or not." He said. A bone shattering scream echoed from the forest. Moll chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head.

Ludwig's face was pale as talcum. His mind began to run pictures through his head, imaging the children struggling against the searing grip of the flames. The leather of his gloves creaked as his knuckles stretched the material over his bones. Ludwig's eyes drifted to his brother who sat content and still. His hands folded in his lap. Playing the facade well, Prussia looked unfased by the man's words.

"Thank you for your time, sir. We have taken note and will be sure you be correctly represented to your superiors." Prussia said.

"Thank you... Now, I assume you need to brief yourself with others, so I will leave you too your work." He said as he stood.

Prussia pulled out a small notebook from his inner breast pocket the moment Moll had left the room. His hands scribbled out four simple words. _Moll: The Sick One_. He placed the pad back into his coat crossed his legs.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ludwig hissed,

"Brother... I worked hard to build my defenses for this day, break them down and I will make you come here every week in my place." Prussia muttered. Ludwig fell silent, his eyes twitching.

"How many people must we listen too?" Ludwig mumbled,

"Two more, this ass bag didn't have a report done yet but the others should be handing something into us... Fuck, I wish I stashed some schnapps in my coat." Prussia muttered.

A polite knock came to the door, so silently the person had approached that the brothers were thrown off guard.

"Come in," Prussia said. The door opened slowly and closed, a much softer entrance than the last one. The man smiled, his eyes large and wide with admiration. His dark hair was combed neatly, uniform in perfect order. White gloves pristinely smoothed over his large hands. In his hands was a fold stack with papers.

"Good morning," He said,

"Good morning," The brothers spoke simultaneously.

"I apologize in advance but it seems another train will be arriving shortly so I must be brief, I am Dr. Joseph Mengele." He slid the folder over the desk, Prussia's leather fingers curling around it. Flipping open the folder his eyes scan the small amount of data collection the doctor had gathered.

"You are in charge of a team of medics and nurses and are responsible for experimentation, correct?" Prussia stated,

"Correct,"

"... Well, you already have your shit together better than some. What else are you currently assigned to do?"

"I part take in selections sir. Who is worked and who is not and which people we can use for study." He said,

"Do you feel this job is fitting for a man of your interests and education?" Prussia asked as he snapped the folder shut. The doctor sat back in his seat with a smile.

"I know one day... One day I'll be in books. In all this chaos, I can experiment with human subjects to better the life of people. A lab rat can only do so much, a human is far better to work on if you doing medical treatments for them correct? Look at this place, it's a never ending supply of exactly what I need to improve the medical field. I have so many plans, so many questions. One day we might be able to make imperfect Germans, perfect examples of Aryans? What an achievement!" His face lit up.

"Do you think you can handle working on these people? Their suffering bothers you not?" Ludwig asked. Swiftly the steal heel of Prussia's boot came down his brother's foot. Though his cheek flinched slightly, he continued to aim his blue eyes at the doctor. Mengele shrugged,

"What is a few Jews against the entire German people? Their suffering is restitution for what they have done, and from my work one day, perhaps, there shall never me a man unworthy of life." His tone was normal, his answer simple.

"Well, at least we know your well positioned," Prussia said,

"Yes, I am happy with my job here. What of you? It would seem a dreadfully boring job to talk to people like me all day." He chuckled. Prussia nodded in agreement and sighed.

"Yes well, if I could question my superiors I would ask them the purpose of such meaningless, time wasting, inefficiencies... But that would be insubordinate, so I shall not say that." Both men chuckled and smiled, Ludwig stiff in his chair trying to contain himself. A deep pitched horn bellowed through the camp. Mengele leaned back slightly to look out the window.

"It appears as if I must bid you farewell, but I look forward to meeting you in the future." He said. Pushing the chair in he reached across the desk to shake Prussia's hand. After a firm shake he reached to Ludwig who only stared coldly, his hands unmoving from the wooden perch they gripped. Withdrawing his hand Mengele stepped back and left without another word.

Gilbert stomped on his brother's foot, digging his heel as deep into Ludwig's foot as possible. His teeth gritting in frustration, his red eyes livid with anger.

"You fucking fuck around like that again you'll get us both fucking killed. Either shut your mouth or I'll sow it shut with Arthur's needles, you understand?" Gilbert snarled, "We can't afford to fuck this up." Germany's eyes glared down at his brother, loathing him. Gilbert flinched and turned away.

"You know where trouble makers go? The east. I'm sure it wasn't you personally who decided to lash back at Russia, but whoever though of it is the stupidest son of bitch on this earth." Gilbert hissed, "Do you really want to fight that? Do you really want to stand up against the prick? Shut the fuck up and save your skin." His lecture was over. Ludwig turned away from his brother.

_I'm only trying to protect you brother, I love you... Forgive me my harshness, _Gilbert thought. He scribbled down on his paper, _Mengele: The Ambitious One _

"Sorry," He muttered to Ludwig.

......................

The clock on the wall ticked sharply, pecking away at Ludwig's sanity. Heat smoldered in his chest and crept up to his neck and ears. His rage being disturbed with each passing second. Keeping a sharp eye on the clock he grit his teeth when the minute hand clicked over to six. They had been waiting nearly a half an hour for the last officer. The buzzing cries of hundreds of people outside, lining up and being sorted, was itching at his brain. His hands began to tremble, heart race.

_I need to smash something. This is too much!_ His mind screamed. A single fire of a gun echoed in the distance. Ludwig squinted his eyes, his brows wrinkled with disgust.

_Is this what a new guard feels like? So disgusted and enraged and terrified that it grows into such blind fury? I'd be willing to hit almost anything! _Ludwig began to press against the chair's arm with such force they whined as their form was bent. Prussia looked over to his brother, his desire to say something was stifled by Ludwig's display of strength.

A soft knock came to the door, Ludwig's heart tremored. His face drained of all emotion as he stared blankly at the closed door.

"Come in," Prussia said. The door drifted open.

The man was small in comparison with the others, lithe and pleasantly built. His face was not any less aged or masculine then the others but there was something more tender about him. His eyes were soft, brows curved upward slightly. He smiled a genuine flash of teeth and reached to shake the brother's hands. Ludwig accepted, shaking firmly and surprised by how passively the man let his arm be moved by his own. He sat down carefully, looking at both men before presenting his report.

"I hate to meet you too under these circumstances," He began, "But I will do my best to report myself dutifully... and on time. I apologize if my lateness was an inconvenience." He said. "I am Lieutenant Karl Ludwig," Prussia chuckled lightly and sat back in his seat, looking at his brother slyly.

"Tell me, Lt. Ludwig, how well do you think your position suits you?" Prussia asked. Karl paused and looked down a moment.

"To be honest, who on earth would want to be in such a place? It's horrid. But I do it for our Fuhrer, I am a good soldier..." He said. Prussia nodded in agreement.

"What is your job here?"

"I am merely a guard. I was in charge of killings before these camps were established but I don't miss that job at all." He said.

"You don't like to kill people?" Prussia asked,

"...No," He spoke in a low tone, as if he was uttering a sin. Ludwig too a deep breath and sighed. Letting his tense body relax, his legs reached out and head fell back. Prussia smiled and leaned so his palm held up his face.

"Tell me, Lt. Ludwig, do you-" A knock came to the door. Karl held up his finger, gesturing for a moment. He cracked open the door only slightly. A Jew stood shivering before the Lieutenant. Ludwig held his breathe to hear the conversation between them. Shock rattled his body, he felt like jumping up and asking them to repeat themselves.

_"You were the one working through lunch right?"_

_ "Y-yes, s-s-sir,"_

_ "Here then,"_ Ludwig saw Karl quickly reach in and give him something form inside his coat. A slurred mess of thank 'you's' came from the stripped bundle of clothing. Karl just nodded and shut the door. Resuming his position in the chair he waited for the brother's to issue questions.

"...If you like we can always put the paperwork in to reassign you." Prussia offered. Karl crossed his legs and sat back into the chair as far as possible.

"If I may ask my superiors a question?" He asked,

"Yes," Ludwig nodded,

"Are you pleased with this place? Do you find it to be the pride and joy of the fatherland? Or rather something that will stain it's history?" He asked. The brothers were silent, looking at each other before even trying to come up with a response.

"I am sorry, that is a rather bold and insubordinate question," Karl said, "But I do not wish to leave... I have... _work_ … To do," He said. A smile crept unto Ludwig's face, his hand came up shield his eyes.

"Finally," He whispered. Prussia scratched the back of his head, shrugging.

"If you don't mind me asking what is your logic? You seem to be good solider but your unlike the rest. Why treat them so good?" Prussia asked. Karl tapped his finger against the desk a few times. He bit his lower lip and finally nodded his head.

"We are German are we not? We are the epitome of superior beings. Bred and trained to be the best, correct? I take pride in that. We are taught to hard working, humble, loyal and strong. Fair statement, yes? Self indulgence and being selfish are undesirable traits that a man must abandon should he ever wish to serve the Fatherland. These men here, are selfish. They given into their pressures and indulgence in primal lust. I am above that, as I was taught to be. These men feed off each other, when they see their colleague break a bone of a Jew, guess what? They want too, they reward each other and get a rush of pleasure from deep within our primitive brain. To truly be a good German, such indulgence is a sin." Karl said. Ludwig shook a moment, the rage and anger slipped away. Comfort in the idea that at least one man was descent.

"Are there others like you with this logic?" Ludwig asked. The man hesitated, a flash of panic in his eyes. "Because I agree with your logic," Ludwig added. Karl held his hand to his chin and shook his head mournfully.

"They are very few and far between. There would be more but-" Suddenly the office shook with a violent blow. A man had been slammed against the side of the office, his face against the window. The SS solider left a streak of blood as he slumped down. As his form slipped under the sight of the window another officer stood with a bloody walking stick.

"Fuck!" He screamed, "Fuck!" A swarm of guards came around the frantic man. "You'll writhe in Hell! Your writhe in Hell!" His voice strained under his shrills, cracking as he tried to cry louder. One of the guards pulled their gun.

"Writhe in HEL-" The pop silenced the man. Ludwig looked to Prussia and then to Karl. He leaned over the desk and whispered to the brothers.

"We would have more people like me... But German's are very kind folk, rough and structured as may be. They snap under the horror and lash out. Then they are killed for tyranny. We bred a special kind of human here, not Germans, but something else..."

.............

"I'll tell you when... Hikup... Vh-When I've had enough..." Germany's face was laid against the bar, a mug in his hand. Attempting to tap it against the bar, he wound up tipping the empty glass on it's side. His large fingers now severed to complicate his life as he fumbled to pick it up. Prussia laughed uncontrollably next to, leaning on his brother.

"Youuu... You are sooo wasted!" He slurred, "Ha-have you ever noticed... This room is spinning?... Has it always done that?" Prussia asked. The bartender returned with a new glass and took the old one from Germany. His hand shook as he tried to bring the brown liquid to his lipids. Giving up he leaned forward and drank like bull from a troth. The rich foam clung to his upper lip, dripping down around his chin. He rested his head back on the wooden top of the bar again, mumbling something incoherently.

"Yu-you know what? Bro? We-we should go to old, … Hikup... Old tight ass and... And get him drunk... Lighten him up... Hikup... Then you get behind him and push," Prussia said,

"If only," Germany mumbled, Prussia slid from his stool and stood. His legs shaking he raised his glass to all the patrons in the bar.

"To the Fuhrer! May God grant him everything he deserves!" He sprung his glass up, the beer flung to the ceiling and hit the light. With a buzz and snap it shorted.

"GET OUT!"

Prussia let himself fall into the street, the unamused bartender hurled Ludwig out on top of him. The door to the bar slammed, the lock clicking. The two drunks tripped over each other as they tried to get up. After several failed attempts to right themselves, the two men hung on each other and began the long walk home.

..................

"DOES IT HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING BRIGHT IN THE FUCKING MORNING?!" Prussia's scream echoed through the home. Ludwig opened his eyes and immediately shut them, sympathizing with his brother. His head pulsed with pain, mouth dry and stomach curling. How he had managed to get up the stairs and into his bed was beyond him. He didn't even remember the walk home. Lying in his own nest of self inflicted pain he tried to go back to sleep.

.....................

_Sorry there wasn't much Italy in this chapter, I'll make up for it later._

_Otto Moll- One of the worst and most famous SS who came up with unique tortures for the people of Auschwitz. Was sentenced to death in 1946._

_Dr. Joesph Mengele- Known as "The Angel of Death", he was a "Nazi Doctor" and conducted medical experiments as well as selections from the trains. By prisoner accounts, he was very kind to the children and twins he kept for medical experiments but at the same time could preform cruel procedures. He died of a stroke, his family refuses to claim remains._

_Lt. Karl Emil Ludwig- Yes, he did live. He is one of the better known, but not the only, kind SS officer. Many of the prisoners liked him and said he brought them food and items. While in the past he was responsible for driving the gas truck, the Waldkammando*, and for executing via shooting, he held no extermination responsibilities at his job in Treblinka. He was not quiet about what was going on and help many people escape. One of his most famous quotes is "Could you image what the Jews would do if they got hold of us?" Because he did these deeds at his trial he was acquitted and released based on the Prisoners testimony. His whereabouts are unknown but because of his age during WW2 I will assume he is dead.  
_

_This information was all taken from published books that are available either Online or in your local library. 95% of this research came from print material._

_*Waldkommando- basically a giant roller prisoners had to pull until they died of exhaustion._

_The first Death Camp was built in 1942  
_

_I promise fluff in the next chapter!_

_Please R&R, it keeps the story alive_


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer**-_ I do not own hetalia_

**Note**- _The following chapter has more implications of Sexual Abuse. Please be aware of this. This chapter will be one of the last times this subject is brought up. _

_....................  
_

It had taken half the day for Ludwig to sober himself and drag his body out of bed. Italy had checked on him once before that, but he was making offerings to the porcelain Gods so Italy left him be. Instead the Italian decided to amuse himself with the other brother, who's self control was not as well built. Prussia's ever loud voice was half the reason Ludwig decided to get up. As he made his way down the hall he paused, his ear catching an out of normal noise. Holding his breath he waited for it to come again. It was a squeak. The sound came from Leos' room. Ludwig, immediately thinking it was a rat, crept into the boy's room and looked around. He waited patiently for his pray to come. Finally the squeak happened again, close to Leos' bed. Creeping along he bent over, sure it would be hiding under the bed.

The rat was no where in sight. Ludwig gritted his teeth slightly, anything threatening the cleanliness of his home needed to be eliminated. The squeak cried again, his head shot up to Leos. His son's face contorted in pain, his mouth open in his sleep was frowned. He stared for a moment, watching the wrinkles of discomfort grown on his face. He rested his hand on the boy's side, shaking him gently,

"Leos, wake up, are you okay?" He asked, his son's eyes shot open, his colorless, fearful, eyes stole his father's breathe for a moment. Leos blinked and slowly calmed down, turning away from his father.

"Did you have a bad dream?" he asked, Leos didn't respond. "Answer me," Ludwig said.

"...No," He whispered,

"Are you hurt?"

"...No,"

"Did I scare you? I apologize,"

"...No..." There was an awkward pause, Ludwig sat on the bed and waited for some kind of reaction. Leos was still, showing no sign of moving.

"What are you doing in bed this late anyway? Do you still feel sick?" Ludwig asked,

"I feel okay, but Mr. Italy was worried because I felt warm. I didn't want breakfast either." He said. Ludwig held the back of his hand to his son's forehead.

"Maybe we should take your temperature, you've been like this the past two days now." He leaned forward to stand but Leos latched onto him His eyes wide with fear.

"No, no, no, please Papa, I'll get better! Don't take my temperature," He begged, pulling at his father's sleeve. Ludwig raised his eyebrows, gently removing his tiny hand's from his shirt.

"It is just a thermometer, it's not going to hurt you, just wait in the bathroom it will only take a minute." Ludwig encouraged. He helped his tiny son get on his feet and nudged him to his bathroom. "I'll be right there," Ludwig said as he walked down the stairs.

Prussia looked like was going to cut Italy's head off. His eyes twitched with every question that became more stupid as time went on. He had begun scanning the room for his sword, contemplating his excuse for his brother should he find the body. Italy's rambling halted and he looked up,

"Germany!" He exclaimed,

"Good morning Italy, brother... Call me Ludwig, I'm not exactly king of my castle anymore." He said. Going straight by them, he went directly to the office and pulled out his field bag. Rifling through it quickly he pulled out the little glass thermometer. Prussia stood up quickly, raising his hand.

"Where are you going with that?" He asked,

"Leos isn't feeling good, I'm taking his temperature," Ludwig said,

"Hang on a sec," Prussia blocked his brother, "I think we need to talk," He guided his brother into the opposite room. Yanking the thermometer from him, his eyes narrowed.

"Are you insane?" He hissed,

"What? The boy obviously isn't feeling well. If he is running a fever I can give him some medication to bring it down." Ludwig said,

"Does everything I say go in one ear and out the other?" Ludwig looked blankly at his brother. "The boy was born in a brothel. What part of 'everything is for sale' do you not get? Do really think he is going to let you take his temperature?" Prussia asked. Ludwig froze, he hadn't thought twice about the simple process or how Leos may react. His face fell and he looked to the side.

"Where is he?" Prussia asked,

"I told him to wait in the bathroom," He said, Prussia gripped his own hair and shook his head.

"Dear Lord, go get him you ass! The bathroom? That is where-... Go get him!" He shoved his brother up the stairs. Ludwig ran up, turning the corner and slid into his bedroom. He opened the door, immediately kneeling down. Leos stood crying softly, hurrying to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"Leos... I didn't... I... I'm not going to take your temperature, don't cry." He said, there was a sigh of relief from the boy. "Leos, I didn't know... You realize I wouldn't do anything to hurt you on purpose, correct?" Ludwig asked. Leos nodded. Ludwig stretched his arms out, letting Leos wrap himself around his muscular chest. For the first time Ludwig's brain registered his son's scent, it was sweet and clean. Like fresh soap and summer melons. While this soothed him, a heat was building in his chest. How dare someone treat the son of Germany with such disgrace. How dare anyone lay a violating hand on his innocent child. His grip tightened on the boy as he imaged what he would do to the twisted people in his life before Prussia and himself.

"Papa, too tight," He squeak,

"Sorry," Ludwig let go, immediately distancing himself. "Well, would you like to try eating a little something?" Leos thought a moment and shook his head.

...................

Days had pasted, Italy collected the last remains of the venison from the pantry, along with a small cup of rye flour and the solids of pan drippings. The Garden, though sprouting, would not be ready for harvest any time soon and the small remains of dried onion and herbs would not be suitable for a real meal. Reluctantly, Italy dragged himself into Ludwig's office to announce the need for food.

The stronger man sat leaning on his arm and sorting through a pile of paperwork. His face hard with stress creases on his forehead. Italy contemplated walking away, thinking if he stared long enough at the empty shelves something would appear. Ludwig noticed him before he could escape.

"What is wrong, Feliciano?"

"Ehh... Well, I, um... There isn't anything to make a meal for tonight with." Italy said.

"Nothing?" Ludwig's tone changed to surprise,

"Not unless you fancy dust bread," Italy said, running his fingers through his hair, Ludwig thought a moment.

"Italy, I have no money, I can't buy any food... Nothing left from the deer?"

"Ludwig, forgive me, but its a miracle it lasted this long." Italy said,

"Mhm... I guess I can hunt again," Ludwig sighed, tapping his finger on the small stack of papers. Time away from reality and his work would be nice. Ludwig stood up and neatly pushed in his chair.

"I'll go get something," He said simply before opening his cabinet. He fumbled with it a bit, jerking at the lock and handle. Finally, it shook open and revealed its deadly contents. An array of small guns from all eras were protected in glass, but his guns and knifes in use were on the rack. Slinging his rifle over his shouldered he closed the door. As he walked past Italy he stopped suddenly.

"Italy... Would you do me a favor and going to pick up some rations in town?" Ludwig said,

"Oh, of course," Italy said.

....................

Leos carried the ration book against his chest, Italy's hand wrapped around his as they navigated the streets. The simple request was turning into a feat. The usual store that they purchased food from was completely out of the basic essentials. Three other stores also failed to supply anything and had suggested coming back at the end of the week. There was a bit of a panic, as people ran from store to store asking for simple things such as onions and lemons. Some where successful, carrying one or two withered produce from the store while the people behind them frown and went onto the next.

Italy, in attempt to think ahead, headed straight across town to the far shops. The last place that sold produce was empty of people. Inside, barely anything was on the shelves.

"Excuse me, sir, do you have any peppers, flour, or celery?" Italy asked,

"No, some celery tops are left in the bin, but other than that I only have some potatoes and beets." The clerk said,

"Oh, well then, any soap rations here?"

"Yes, but the amount has been cut again," The clerk took a small paper wrapped object and placed it on the counter. It was less than the size of Leo's palm, it's weight so light Italy wondered if a scale would even register it.

"How long must this last?" Italy asked.

"For a family of four it must last one month. One week for each member." The clerk explained. Italy cocked his head to the side, tangling the thin bar of soap between his thumb and index finger.

"Ve, I don't think Ludwig's going to take this one well... Why the shortage? It is not like the front has running water.*" Italy said.

"It's not the use, its the fat. We are so short we are not making soap much, instead we are pushing perfumes which can be diluted with water or alcohol... Or simply not bathing often." The clerk twitched a bit at the mention of uncleanliness. Italy leaned down and took the ration book from Leos.

"Mr. Italy?" He said while gently tugging on his pant leg.

"Hmm?"

"May I pay the store?" Leos asked, Italy smiled and handed Leos the money and stamp. His tiny arms stretched as far as they could over the counter. The clerk smiled and counted up the money. Handing back a few coins the clerk smiled and turned his attention to the next customer. Counting the coins he slipped them into Italy's pocket and went back to clutching the ration book.

"Leos, do we have stamps for potatoes in the book?" Italy asked,

"Yes, Mr. Italy, but we have potatoes at home," Leos said,

"Let me show you a trick," Italy said taking the book from him. They had a barrel of potatoes in storage, but the stamps were good for about three pounds. In addition to Potatoes they had another three pounds of beats, which again they already had. Taking the book, Italy neatly ripped the stamps from the pages and took Leos to the corner.

"Three pounds of potatoes to anyone who can get me three pounds of carrots or peppers!" He shouted. The unorthodox outburst was frown upon but then the people began to to contemplate what he said. Finally an old woman inched over to him, her cane tapping against the cobbles as she got as close to them as she could. Slipping him some stamps, Italy tallied them up and the exchange was made.

"Now! Three pounds of beets to whoever can give me three pounds of Peppers or three pounds of flour!" This time a man made haste to approach, taking a sack of rye flour from his bag. Italy exchanged the stamps and the seedy exchange was done. Now with flour and a vegetable, Italy stood proudly thinking of the stew he would be able to make with what ever Ludwig was going to bring home.

...................

Ludwig's massive muscles struggled against the makeshift pulley system he crafted in the forest. Not believing his body was truly fatigued he pulled harder. His arms trembling to bare the work his brain ordered. The bones of his hand felt as if they were going to pop from his stretched flesh. Still his body worked in agony to obey him. At the end of the pulley was a boar that was barely off the ground. Blood draining from it's sliced throat.

_I can not truly be this weak_ He thought. The leverage should have aided him greatly in hoisting the swine in the air. The beast itself was most likely equal to Italy's weight, which he had bore many times without the help of physics. Grunting, a bead of sweat worked from his knitted brow down to his chin and cascaded o his throat. His boots were slipping on the fresh sprouting grass, quickly he tried to reposition himself but it all collapsed. The rope burned through his hands and whipped around the tree, the carcass fell to the ground. Gripping his hands, he cursed under his breathe, taking a moment to absorb the pain. His muscles shivered in pain, grateful for the release of strain.

"I can not be this weak," He said aloud. Reluctantly, he approached his kill. The wide bucket he set under the pig to catch some of the blood had spilled in the fall. It was all wasted, nothing from the blood could be salvaged but perhaps what was left in the liver and heart. He tied the hog's feet and began the long walk home. Deciding it would be better to butcher his prize in a clean environment.

...................

Tender flesh seared in the pan, filling the house with the distinct aroma of fresh boar. Italy smiled as he flipped the cut of meat over, inhaling deeply. Ludwig had not only retrieved meat, but found some sprouting edible plants and berries along the trail home. Though not much, Italy quickly seasoned the meat and garnished it with the wild plants. Placing the seared meat in a pot he left it to simmer, now his focus turned on the rye flour and making it into something edible to sop up the juices of the meat with. Leos watched all the time, absorbing the information. However, his presence was becoming underfoot.

"Leos, why don't you see if Ludwig needs anything?" He suggested,

"Yes, Mr. Italy," He obediently took off to the upstairs. Ludwig has immediately retreated upstairs to the bath when he returned from his hunt. Leos knocked on the door,

"Yes?"

"Papa, Mr. Italy just wanted me to see if you needed anything,"

"I'm fine... Tell Italy that after I'm done working I would like to go to the park and eat there. It's such a lovely day, time for me to make good on some promises." Of course Leos didn't have to tell Italy, his ears picked up the message and began to holler from downstairs.

"Ve! Ludwig is loosening up!" Italy's voice put a smile on Ludwig's face.

"If only I was doing it out of selflessness..." He muttered to himself. Leaning his head back over the the tub his spine cracked, the warm water messaging the stress from his muscles.

.....................

Italy had already prepared a small snack for their outing and placed it in the car. Ludwig barely had time to dress properly before he was being dragged out the door. Despite protests of finishing his work, Italy coax him into the driver's seat.

"Blanket?"

"Got it,"

"Food,"

"Yup,"

"Water?"

"Mhm,"

"Football*?"

"Yes,"

"Napkins,"

"Ludwig, must everything be roll call?" Italy whined,

"Yes," He answered as he started the engine. The car lurched forward, eager to be used after so long sitting idle. Their bodies jerked forward and then back as Ludwig stepped on the gas. The tree blurred and became green streaks along the windows. The car tossed about over the stones and pits in the rural road. Leos pressed his fingers against the glass and watched out the window. Italy smiled, watching the awe in the boy's eyes as they exited the forest and the farmlands opened up. A small herd of cattle grazed close to the road.

"Look Papa! A baby one!" He pointed, Ludwig took his eyes from the road for a mere second to register the sigh of the calf.

"I see him, he is very well feed." He said. The calf's round belly jiggled as it trotted away from the steel monster on the road.

"Papa, those two are fighting, I hope it doesn't get hurt, that looks painful." Leos said. Italy stifled his laughter, his face turning a deep shade of red. Again, Ludwig looked from the road. His jaw fell. The two cattle were far from fighting, although their grunts would suggest other wise. The coupling animals cared not for their spectators, and were unaffected by the steel beast running down the road.

"Ahhh, look over on the other side! Uh, uh, horses!" Ludwig pointed. Leos eagerly scooted to the other side and searched the horizon for a horse. Germany pressed harder on the gas petal, rushing to get away. Italy tried to contain himself, but was failing miserably.

"I don't see horses, Papa," Leos said,

"I... Guess they ran away, a car can be scary to them." Ludwig said,

"What about the fight cows? Will they be okay?" Italy lost it, bursting with laughter as he looked at Ludwig's mortified face.

"..They'll be fine... I promise," Ludwig said.

........................

The park was fill of people, the fair days had drawn them out into the fresh air. The park, being free, was set up with crude boundaries where a group of kids played football, adults conversed, and the youngest children played simpler games on a sandy area. The floral gardens had begun to bloom with arrays of purple and pink flowers. The grass was a thick, lush green, that pulled back at their shoes as the three walked to a desolate spot. Leading his family to the protection of a large oak, Ludwig laid out the blanket and food. Laying on their sides, they ate propped up on their elbows. The sun warmed their pale flesh, the soft grass beneath the blanket cushioned their ribs against the hard ground.

"I haven't eaten like this since Grandpa Rome," Italy said, Ludwig looked up from his plate of bread.

"I suppose this is how they ate back then," He said. Leos, who was laying front of his father, had been devouring his bread furiously. Ludwig reached over him and pulled his socks up, grooming bits of grass from his clothes. Smoothing out his son's clothing he resumed eating, the simple gesture of grooming did not go unnoticed by Italy who smiled at them.

"Ve, Ludwig's a good Papa." Italy said,

"Mhm?" Ludwig said through his mouthful of bread.

"Ludwig is finally spending time with us. You work so hard, you deserve a day of fun." Italy said, he reached over to the ball and tossed it from one hand to another.

"So, how about a quick game? We can show Leos how to play,"

"Sure,"

Ludwig's long legs easily handled the ball, his foot work silent but quick, his boots appeared to not even shift at all even though the white bundle spun around his body. Italy was the same way, knocking the circle from knee to knee, rolling it along as if it were second nature. Leos watched and waited for the ball to be passed to him. Guided by Ludwig's feet the ball made its way over to him. Protectively he stood over his son, gently nudging his feet to mimic his own moves. The earth pounded beneath his body but never did his weight come down on Leos' tiny feet or risk injuring him. The force of Ludwig's feet hitting the earth sent vibrations through the boy's chest, Italy could clearly hear the power in each of his friend's steps.

"Try to keep a rhythm," Italy encouraged, the tip of Leos' toes shifted the wall from side to side.

"Now, go forward with it," Ludwig said, stepping forward and bit, Leos' eyes were glued to the floor. His pace increasing. Ludwig's protective stance eased and he let Leos inch away from him.

"Look up occasionally, watch where your-" Ludwig cut himself off when Leos hit the tree. Picking himself up, Leos ran to retrieve the ball that attempted to get away. As he ran back, he tried again to handle the ball with the dexterity of his father and Italy.

"There you go! Now, with the tip of your foot, kick it to Italy!" Ludwig said, Leos looked up this time, taking aim at Italy. Hurrying to kick he tripped over himself. Before Ludwig could help him, the boy was back on his feet and succeeded in kicking the ball to Italy. Catching it with his foot Italy smiled.

"I think your ready for a game," Italy said,

"I agree, but we have an uneven number of players," Ludwig said, "Unless..." A gleam entered his eye, a predatory one he kept locked away and only used in negotiations. Looking upon the little Italian, he saw him flinch slightly.

"Play Germans against Italians," He said, both of the German's smirked and looked at Italy who was in the goal trembling.

"V-v-veeee, I think Leos inherited your gleam..." Italy said. Father and son stood with the same expressions on their faces. The Italian man resumed his position in the goal, he made a point to throw the ball out as far as he cold to buy himself time before the Germans would attempt to score.

Ludwig and Leos took off. At first Ludwig was running at his normal pace, leaving Leos in his wake. Slowing, he ran by his son's side. Coaching him as he handled the ball, Ludwig's competitive nature reared. Leos moved his feet as fast as he could, executing the moves with skill for his first attempt.

"Good boy, now set up for you final kick," He instructed, Leos took aim and kicked the ball. Italy swatted it out of the way, Leos was quick to meet the ball and kick again. Italy kicked the ball further this time, shifting to protect his goal. The battle continued until Italy noticed Leos' pace begin to slow. Purposefully, he fumbled and the ball entered the goal.

"Excellent job," Italy said, "Now maybe Ludwig play's goalie?" Italy asked. Ludwig smiled and entered the goal. Italy and Leos passed the ball several times down the field before attempting to challenge Ludwig. Leos kicked the ball to Italy, who built up all the tension he could in his tendons and released it on the ball. The round blur shot passed Ludwig's head and beyond the goal space.

"Ve!" Italy cheered,

"Nice score Italy! We should start a team," Ludwig said, his face cracked a smile.

................

Italy gulped down his portion of water, smiling widely when he finished and passed the canteen to Leos. The mouth of the bottle was wide, made for a man, Leos' small lips curled round the bottom and cautiously tipped the canister back. The water rushed and spilled unto his face, coughing he wiped it from his nose and eyes and handed it to his father. Finishing the last of the water, Ludwig looked around. The sun was just beginning to dip down, the sky flaring into a brilliant array of reds. The other families had begun to migrate down to watch the sunset, making a slight crowd. Moving further back, they sat on the hill.

Engrossed in the display of colors, Leos hadn't noticed Italy's hand creeping up on him. Taking the opportunity to be playful, he snatched up the boy's side and began to tickle him. Laughing and kicking, Leos tried to squirm away. Italy had no part of it and continued his attack on his prisoner. Laughing, Leos struggled to do the same to Italy, but had no luck reaching past his long arms. Instead he turned to his father and wrestled on top of him. Ludwig himself, was not an overly gentle man, but for the sake of what little joy they could find, he faked it and wrestled softly with his son. The tiny boy rolled over unto his father, resting his head on his muscular breast. Ludwig smiled as his son's colorless eyes stared back at him. The yellow sun tinting his platinum hair just enough to make it look blonde.

"I want to get on Ludwig too!" Italy threw himself on top.

"Italy! You are too heavy!" Ludwig breathed through his crushed chest.

"Ludwig is so warm," Italy smiled, his body not moving,

"Italy..." Ludwig pushed back, trying to be gentle about the boy between them. Suddenly, Leos dug his nails into his father's skin. A look of terror on his face. Italy stopped his game and stood up.

"What's wrong Leos?" Italy asked, "I didn't hurt you did I?"

"Don't you hear that?" Leos asked,

"What?" Ludwig asked, They all listened, patiently waiting for some kind of sound. A faint buzzing could be heard in the distance, but nothing more. A brewing storm had been closing in, it's clouds dark and fast moving.

"It was probably thunder," Ludwig soothed, "Nothing to fear," He whispered as Leos drew closer.

"No, Papa," Leos whispered, "Listen," Italy went stiff, sitting up and looking to the western sky. The storm rolled close, growling and flashing in warning.

"Ludwig, we have to go," Italy's voice shook. Ludwig's gut turned over in his body, tugging at his chest and making him nauseous. A feeling of uneasiness chilled the blood in his veins, his skin flinched.

"Something's wrong," He said under his breathe. From the sky a buzzing came, freezing Ludwig struggled to separate it from the storm's roars. The people stopped, looking to the sky. Turning over on his elbow Ludwig glared at the storm. It shoved him with wind, the trees bent away from the black clouds that bleed over them. The buzzing became clearer.

"Run!" Ludwig ordered.

..................

_Thermometers during that time were most likely all rectal, if one was fortunate enough to have one._

_Football= American Soccer_

_The trading of clothing, ration stamps, and anything other than money was practiced much more widely toward the mid through post WWII, especially after when money was better left to wiping your ass or use as insulation than actual spending. (shredding the money and putting it in a bag would keep a person warm in absence of fire)._

_When I say a "pound" think of German weight at that time. which is a tad over an American pound._

_While the issue is up. Soap. Fat shortages were very severe. Some people were NOT even rationed meat. Alternatives were used but with less success and cleanliness was a HUGE deal, still is. I know someone will mention it, so let me head it off now. Yes, according to Nazi documentation they experimented with making soap from fat which was derived from human fat taken from the pans that caught it in the pits. This soap was tested on a minor scale (probably on animals, objects or inmates) but there is NO evidence that they distributed the soap to be on shelves for people to buy. This fact became rumor because SS guards found it a useful way of manipulation of prisoners. If they fear it, why not use it too your advantage? So they did. They encouraged the rumors as well among towns living near camps. There is no cited, original documentation I have yet to encounter that proves the sales of such soap._

_Prussia and Russia's involvement will begin to get strong as well as S. Italy._

_Please R & R ^^_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Disclaimer-** Don't own hetalia_

_**Note-** I'm going to start posting the "soundtrack" for this. All titles are available to listen on utube if you wish to listen. all the works I use for this piece will be posted in the final chapter, i highly recomend thm I hope the same songs will inspire others to write more fanfiction. All music is orchestral with no explicit words. As always thank you for all the wonderful reviews ^^._

_Soundtrack- God of Lightening by Two steps from Hell._

........................

Steel wings shot from the tree line and soaring up and then down low into the field. Shrills of fear deafened Ludwig as he wrapped his arms around Leos and sprung to his feet. Italy was ahead of him his tearing eyes toward the sky. More appeared behind the first one, their formation evening out into a steady pace after the prey.

Pop pop pop pop pop

Ludwig smashed Leos as close to him as he could, his legs carrying him as fast as they could, the nerves stopped sending fatigue or pain. Instinct drove him faster than his mind could command, digging into a deep primitive part of his mind and spurring him forth. The steal monsters drew closer, their hatches gave a high pitched squeal before releasing their weapons. Italy first ran to the car, desperately jerking at the handle, tears and mucus falling down his face has he plead to the gods of mercy. Within a few steps Ludwig grabbed hold of him and tore him from the door.

"LEAVE IT!" He said as he dragged the Italian. His effort didn't last long as the smaller man ran ahead of him.

"THE EMBANKMENT!" Ludwig shouted. The hill sharply dipped ahead by tens of feet. Without hesitation, Italy hurled himself down the steep hill. Rolling and falling to the bottom, the countless rocks stabbing him on his way down. Behind him, a cloud of fire hissed and dirt exploded in all directions, trees flared up and their black skeletons curled in agony from the assault. Italy looked up, searching for Ludwig. From the smoke came a fast figure, sliding on it's back. Ludwig skidded down, Leos wrapped against his stomach to protect him from the ground. Ludwig hit the earth with a pound, carefully rolling to the side he regained his balance.

The pine forest was a maze of trunks and branches that eagerly reached out to Ludwig, as if to plead for him to drag them away from their eminent doom. The squeal of bombs falling followed by the hot breath of the enemy on his back shoved as much adrenaline into his veins as possible. Sweat poured from his body as he stampeded through the forest. Italy only a few paces ahead. Behind him the crack of trunks and snapping fire leaped closer. The forest began to thin.

"ITALY JUST RUN, DONT TURN! RUN AND CUT THROUGH THE EDGE OF TOWN TO GET HOME!" Ludwig ordered. The forest opened up, a large pasture was before them. For a moment, Ludwig felt as it he was suspended in air.

The town he knew was no longer. The Steeple stood proudly, defying the steel vultures that circled it. It's body aflame, the copper cross boldly standing it's ground as more bombs fell unto the town. Roofs were blow off and shops wrapped in the devil's flaming grasp, strangling them violently till the earth quivered with their collapse. The storm clouds and the smoke no longer differed, the planes dodging in and out of them.

In the open they ran, slowly others appeared from the forest, running with their wives and a children. The roar of the plans drew closer, the guns firing wildly into the people that desperately ran. Leos dug his nails into his father's chest, his body stiff as ice against his father. Ludwig's boots pounded the earth, desperate to get out of the open.

Ludwig was almost on the edge of the forest, a few hundred meters. The planes lowered themselves, taking aim and pursuing.

_This is it I'm going to die,_ Ludwig thought, "Leos, I love you!" He shouted and braced himself for the impending bullets. Suddenly from the forest came a deep thunder. Shooting just meters above Ludwig it soared in formation toward the enemy. The rush of air pushed Ludwig back and he stumbled. Leos pulled up on his father and looked over his shoulder. His vision blurred as his father ran but the sight amazed the boy. Ludwig turned slightly to see.

The sight of the hakenkreuz painted on the fin of the planes sent a shock of energy down Ludwig's spine. The perfectly formatted planes opened fire and the enemy lit up with a bright shine before shattering in a ball of fire. Regaining position the planes rose high and turned back toward the town. The survivors in the field heiled

"Deustchland!" The charred wreckage hit the ground, shaking the field. Ludwig turned and continued running.

Ludwig figured a cut through the corner of town would be safer, making a B line to the house. Going around may put them in danger of the smoke that was pushed by the wind. Italy was far ahead, already he was on the crumbled cobble stone streets of the town. The little shops they shopped in only hours before now were square flames with no recognizable marks. Leos' eyes were glued to the aerial dual above them. The Nazi planes slicing skillfully through the smoke and destroying their enemies. The planes moved synchronization, dodging and firing as if they were all one creature. A stray enemy plan appeared from the thick smoke above.

"PAPA!" Leos shrilled, looking up the silhouette of the plane glowed with the red and orange flames. It's hatch opening, staring down at them. Ludwig hunched over, still fleeing he covered Leos and drew the last burst of energy from his muscles. An explosion burst above them, metal spraying off in all directions, imbedding into Ludwig's flesh. He felt the shards hit him, but no pain, he was too dazed to comprehend the damage and kept running. Leos peeked up, his eyes reflecting the enemy plane wobbling down to the earth in a spectacular surge of heat. The body of the plane chased them, falling closer and closer to the ground. Ludwig' eyes were glued to the deep drainage ditch.

"Italy JUMP INTO IT!" Wither his voice could be heard over the fire, cries, or guns he didn't know but Italy's lithe form plummeted into the pit. Smashing into the ground the plan tumbled after Ludwig, it's body shaking the teeth in his skull as he ran. His thighs coiled and flung him to the ditch. His body slammed back first into the wet soil. Above him the flaming ball of wreckage rolled over, smoldering red metal whipped from it and attacked him. Frantically brushing the embers off he froze, grabbing the mud as if he was going to fall off the face of the earth. Leos was fused to his father's body, Italy trembling beside him. His heartbeat and breathing was all he could hear, his thoughts blank, vision tunneling. His mind suddenly snapped on,

_I'm alive_

_.................._

The burning wreckage around them began to choke the oxygen from the air. Ludwig pulled his son to his face. The clear eyes swelled with tears when they met his father's blue ones. Trembling, his tiny hand wrapped around Ludwig's thick palms. The fragile hands seeped with blood, his fleshing seeming to spill open and let the fluids flow. Ludwig's jaw dropped in shock, it was the first time he had watched his son break open in such large wounds. Pulling him close again he in haled his scent to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating. Italy was still in a state of shock, convulsing and crying beside his friend. Reaching over he laid his hand on Italy's shoulder and the frantic man became still. Turning over his rich brown eyes glistened with tears.

"We need to go," Ludwig said. His legs wobbled beneath him, Leos slid gently form his arms and held unto Ludwig's pant leg. Pulling Italy to his feet he supported the frightened man as they began the trail home, the buzzing of the planes no longer plaguing the area.

.....................

Ludwig almost fell to his knees, his home had not faired as well as he hoped. What was once Leos' room was blown from the home, the living room partially exposed, his office obliterated. Some objects were still in tack, but skew about. The culprit of the disaster was wing of a plane, severed from the body that fell into the home. Italy began to weep,

"Luuudwig, what are we going to do?!" He asked, the noises in Ludwig's head were too loud for him to answer. Leos walked away from his father and up to the home. A pile of wreckage from his room was laid on the ground. He reached down and pulled something from it. Holding it close to his body he returned to his family's side. His lamb pressed against his chest. His tiny body trembled before his father, chest heaving, he broke down and began to cry. Swallowing the ball in his throat, Ludwig leaned over and rested the bottom of his chin on his son's head. Nestling against the fragile boy's head he whispered,

"We'll be fine, shhhh, it's okay..." The long he was bent the more a nipping pain grew on his back. Italy suddenly stopped crying and latched unto his friend.

"Ludwig, your injured! We-we need to get you help!" Standing up Ludwig looked unfazed by Italy's concern. The blood flowing from his back marked it's path on his shirt, traveling to the base of his spine.

"Leos is injured as well," He simply said, "Check yourself over too, you never known if you might have been hit with something." Italy quickly stripped to his underwear, checking his flesh. His back was stained yellow from the bruising he received form the rocks, though he didn't feel it now, later it would be agony. Ludwig figured his back didn't look much different.

"We should see if the pump in the back is still working," Ludwig suggested.

By some merciful hand of God, the pump was still standing. Working the lever, the water spilled from it's mouth as usual. Leos stuck his blood soaked hands and arms under the water. Taking off his shirt, Ludwig ripped it into strips. Using the clothe he bandaged the boy's hands and cleaned the dirt from his face. Italy went behind his friend, grabbing one of the clothes and soaked it. Pressing it to the burned, bloody, flesh of Ludwig's back he carefully began to tend to him. The water tinted pink as it cascaded down the curves of his muscles and dipped over his spine. The hot metal had blown shards into his back and cauterize the wounds around the foreign objects. Though the quantity of blood was less than Leos', the woulds were deep. All of them had just barely missed his spine.

Biting the skin of his inner cheek Ludwig hid his pain, concentrating on Leos. Unable to wrap each and every finger, he encased him in a mitten like bandage. Wiggling his hand inside the soft tomb he looked up at his father.

A car sped up to the house and jerked to a halt. It lunged forward and the brakes screeched again.

"Fucking fucker! Obey my awesome," The engine cut and the door flung open. Prussia bolted from the car.

"Brother!" Prussia shouted. Dressed in civilian clothing, he looked unlike himself. Ludwig's only memories of his brother in such attire were around the home. Ludwig sighed in relief,

"Brother," He said, stopping a few feet from them Prussia looked around.

"Is everyone alright?" He asked,

"Yes, just some minor injuries," Ludwig said,

"...Ludwig, your back," Prussia flinched a bit, "Brother that is not good..." Ludwig looked aside

"Is it that bad?" He asked,

"West... I think you might need someone to treat that..." Prussia stepped closer, Italy backed away. Kneeling, the smaller brother inspected Ludwig's back.

"Metal? This needs to come out... No, there is no way you can heal this on your own. God forbid one of them tare out without anyone to stitch it... Come on, on your feet," Prussia urged. With wobble, Ludwig drew himself up, the pain in his back more apparent. Prussia looked at Leos who drew his injured hands behind him. With a stern look he glared at his little brother,

"I wouldn't lie about his injuries," Ludwig hissed.

"Italy, I need something sharp, like knives, string or twine, if anything like wine, beer, survived bring that too. I need a bullet or ball of clean clothe as well. Oh, and start building a small fire. Take Leos away, this isn't going to be a pleasant sight." He ordered,

"Yes, Prussia,"

.........................

Prussia waited to be sure both Italy and Leos were out of sight. Gathering his crude instruments he turned to his brother who was seated on stump. Handing him a ball of clothe, Ludwig bit down and bent forward, bracing himself for the pain. Taking a small knife he cut a straight line above and blow each wound, allowing him to work around the metal. Carefully he plucked each one out, washing the blood as it rushed to filled the holes. Each injury was only clean for a few seconds before blurring red. Ludwig felt his flesh split with each of his brother's careful cuts. Prussia heated the spare knife, pressing it into the deepest part to stop the hemorrhaging. Ludwig screamed, his voice muffled by the clothe, but it was still loud. The older man considered stopping, to let letting him rest, but that would only prolong the agony. Ludwig felt the horrid pain of being cooked, his back smoking. Prussia continued his work, taking the baling twine Italy had found and proceeded to stitch the wounds shut. His hands stained with the blood of his brother, he wiped the stitches clean.

"Last part, bro," He said raising the alcohol up. He wasn't sure what type it was, vodka, whiskey, scotch, or something even more delicious. He poured the liquid on his brother's back, searing pain shot through his spine and stomach.

"!" His dull cry was accompanied by a harsh stamp of his foot. Taking the last clean rag he patted his brother's back dry. The loose ends caught in the "stitches" and yanked at one of the knots, undoing it.

"Fuck!" Ludwig slammed his head into his palms.

"Sorry man, sorry!" Gilbert said as he hurried to cinch the knot back. "There, better..." He said. Ludwig took the clothe he had been biting and wiped the sweat from his face.

Claiming back his alcohol, Ludwig sat on the charred grass, the bottle raised to lips. Eying the damage to his house he sighed. Frustration built inside his chest and crawled up his throat. How was he going to fix this? He assessed the damage. New beams, roof, and floor as well as a good second of wall was needed. For money and sake of ease, forfeiting the windows would help. By some miracle the chimney and fireplace were intact. Though the contents of the rooms were scattered, it appeared as though the more solid items had fared well. The mountainous paperwork was nothing but ash, scattered and burning in black flakes.

"We will prevail, brother," Prussia said.

"Was my face that easy to read?" Ludwig asked,

"I'll help, don't worry... I report the destruction so that replacement papers can be given to you. Perhaps I may be able to milk some money from the government to rebuild your house." Prussia tried to steer his brother to a more optimistic out look, but Ludwig's frown stood firm. A small laugh and playful giggles filled the air. Looking to the side, Prussia saw Italy distracting Leos from the partial destroyed home. With the dirty lamb in hand, both of them played, Leos run from Italy who attempted to take back the stuffed toy.

"Despite it all... Look, your people are okay." Prussia jabbed his elbow into his brother's side. Taking his eyes away from the wreckage, Ludwig watched his son play. Though the frown did not dissolve completely, his eyes lightened and the creases from his knitted brows melted from his flesh.

"We should cover that gaping hole in your house before the rain reaches us..." Prussia said. Ludwig nodded and pulled his fatigued body up.

.......................

"Fuck damn it your other left!" Prussia barked,

"Your other left or my other left?!" Ludwig shouted back. Master craftsmen in the art of swearing, both men stretched the tarp to it's limit as they tried to settled it over the hole in the home. Ludwig was on the roof, balancing on the crumbling tiles while Prussia anchored himself to the ground. Shifting, Ludwig finally was able to get enough leverage to make the canvas taught enough. Feeling that one more bit of damage would not matter, he nailed the cover to the roof.

"Finally! Now get down here! Don't need your ass falling," Prussia said as he staked the other end of the tarp to the ground. Ludwig carefully navigated the slope of his home until he reached the latter. Italy was at the bottom, holding it still. Bracing himself, Italy was white knuckled as Ludwig's muscular body bent the wooden frame.

"Careful, careful, Caaarrreeefullll," Italy begged, The wood began to moan, warping as Ludwig reached the middle. With a snap the latter failed and Ludwig plummeted to the earth.

"I got you!" Italy held his arms out, the moment Ludwig's weight brushed the Italian's arms they gave. The full force of Ludwig's body crashed down unto the smaller man's frame. Dirt met Italy's face, the back of his head slammed against Ludwig's spine. Laying in a state of shock, both men were quiet. Heavy boots rushed to them, sliding to a halt. Ludwig looked up to see his brother and Leos hovering over them. A wide smirk on Prussia's face.

"Told you not to fall," He mocked, Ludwig rolled himself off Italy who was making a soft moan, his lung expanded with the release of pressure.

"Veeeeeeee,"

"Italy, are you alright?" Ludwig asked, Leos knelt by the brown hair man, poking his face.

"Mr. Italy," He called,

"Ve, give me a moment," He said as he sat up.

"I'm sorry Italy," Ludwig apologized,

"It was an accident," Italy stretched his arms, eager for his friend to help him up.

"He's a good son for you?" Prussia asked. The kitchen, spared from total destruction, is where the family huddled. Ludwig was checking the beams and roof to be sure it was stable enough for the time. Italy was up stairs checking for damage in the master bedroom and Leos had fallen asleep on the sofa.

"Hmm? Of course," Ludwig said. The blonde stood on the table, pressing against the roof. Prussia smirked,

"That is good to hear... He wasn't always so trusting... As you can image, he had huge problems with people. When he was first given to me he was horribly beaten because our relatives simply did not know how to discipline him. The first time I tried to feed him he stabbed me with a fork in fear I would take the food from him. I got a kick to the groin when I tried to bath him, along with countless feeble punches and broken ear drums... He wet himself constantly, cried day and night, and should I even go near him he would run or throw things at me." Prussia almost laughed. Ludwig careful slide from the table and eyed Prussia. He then looked at his tiny son wrapped up on the couch.

"But then... He got sick... Really sick, I though he was going to die. He lost consciousness or went into some kind of vegetative state, I had to feed his limp body like an infant. But it was because he was so dependent on me that he learned I wasn't going to harm him. When he woke up he was weak, I still needed to care for him like a baby. He remembers it all, and after that he never acted out at me. We overcame a lot of obstacles, especially in public and around women. As far as I know, he still hates them even though both men and women did horrid things to him. I was worried when I handed him over to you that he would be aggressive." Prussia chucked. The cat tip toed across the counter, Prussia glared at it. With a hiss the cat arched his back and walked away from the red eyed man. Snorting, Prussia turned his back on the creature.

"Bringers of death they are," He muttered. Leos stirred a bit but settled back down on his side. "I suppose he would feel at home with you... Tell me, he lets you hug him?" Prussia asked,

"Yes,"

"Don't embrace him too tight."

..............

_The events in this chapter are going to set us up for the climax_

_Berlin was bombed extensively by the British in 1943, bombings continued until the end of the war._

_if you like please R& R_


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer-** _I don't own hetalia_

**note-** _thank you for all the wonderful reviews ^^_

..............................

Italy pulled all the food from the pantry and stacked it in barrels. The rain had begun and the once invisible holes began to pour water int the home. Desperate the weather, Ludwig had rushed outside with plywood scraps and nails. Refusing to listen to reason, he was on the roof trying to cover the tiny gaps. Prussia only rolled his eyes each time he heard the hammer striking more nails into the roof. Italy tried to ignore Ludwig's desperate attempt to save his home by cooking. The pot of food they had left on the stove before going to the park had rattled clear off its coil, spilling unto the counter when the wing hit the side of the house. Scraping what he could back into the pot and the waste into a bowl for the cat. He placed the remains back and began to heat them. With a warped pan he browned some ground and minced boar. Thinly slicing the bread, he laid each out and placed on it some dried herbs.

"Prussia, may you wake Leos?" He asked, Prussia was half dazed, subconsciously he leaned his head in the directions of the foot steps on the roof.

"Prussia... Prussia?" Italy called,

"Hmm? Oh, sure," He tilted his head back "LITTLE AWESOME WAKE UP!"

"Ve, I could have done that..." Italy mumbled, "Would you mind trying to pry your brother from the roof?"

"He's not coming down, not until he's satisfied... There is no use, the man is stubborn as an-"

"Ass?" Ludwig voice startled his brother. Loosing his composure temporarily, he jumped at the sound of his brother's deep tone.

"Exactly," Prussia said. Italy pushed a piece of bread with the meat plopped on it toward them both.

"Leos, are you hungry?" Italy called again, His light hair pop up from the sofa, scurrying for his meal, he dragged the blanket along with him. Ludwig picked up the disheveled comforter and folded it neatly back on the couch before looking around that shambles of the room. Prussia stood and went to his brother.

"I'll see what I can do... In the meanwhile, I should check on my own home. Besides, you guys need to eat, see you again, west," He patted his shoulder and left before Ludwig could so much as glance at him.

........................

The rain patter on the roof was the only sound over dinner. Each of them ate their small portions. Immediately after, Italy began to prepare the meat that was in the fridge for drying. If electricity would ever be restored, it would be far too late for the food. The large quarters of the boar were divided by joint then by groups, then sliced into strips. Ludwig started the fire in the oven, setting up the racks so all Italy need to do was slide the food in. Returning to his dark haired friend, they worked quietly as a team. Ludwig preparing fruit and vegetables for drying and Italy on the meat. The whole process was taking some time, which had bored Leos to the point of insanity. He had begun to be underfoot again when his father ordered him to go play in a safe room. When asked to play in the rain, he received a harsh 'no' by both men. Just as the conversation ended a pot on the stove began to boil over. Clutching to the sides of the pot, Italy instantly regretted it and yelp when his skin touched the hot pot. Offering the dark haired man a rag to pick up the pot with, Ludwig continued his steady pace of chopping. After some time of work, Ludwig's brows knitted together. The grey sky was fading to black, the storm beating the windows of the home.

"Where is Leos?" He asked, Italy looked up from the meat. His eyes blank,

"Leos?" It dawned on the Italian, his mouth fell open.

"Leos! Leos where are you?" Ludwig called, there was no response. Walking from the food to the stair case he shouted up the narrow hall.

"Leos! Are you sleeping?" Still no answer. Ludwig turned into the living room, he wasn't around. The dark shadows began to creep and consume the last bit of light. His heart pounded, clawing at his chest. He began to sweat and turned to Italy,

"He's gone... He's gone! We have to find him," Ludwig said pulling Italy. Trying to eat the sunset, Ludwig rushed out without cover from the rain.

The light bled from the sky, darkness spreading out its pals over the destroyed land. Ludwig hurried, pacing around the front yard shouting. The rain muffling his called for his son. The droplets of rain reflecting the crimson lights from the sky and burning town. The red droplets splattering against his drenched body. Italy ran to the back of the home, screaming as loud as he could. Ludwig's mind whipped into a panic, his thoughts jockeyed for position in his mind. _What if rumble fell on him? What if he's trapped?! An enemy could have snatched him! He could be dead, dear God! Oh, please let him be okay!_ His heavy feet pounded the earth as he ran to rejoin Italy. The brunette could feel the pounding boots of his companion in his body before he could see him.

"Ludwig! I think I have found him," He tried to call, but Ludwig had to come all the way to his face to hear him. Italy pointed toward the tree line, where the swing was hung.

Curled up in the tire, Leos shivered, his body soaked. He didn't hear his father or Italy approach him. Like the talons of a hawk, Ludwig's massive hands swept around the boy. Panicking, Leos struggled at first, failing as if he were a rabbit. When pressed against the warm chest, he fell limp, his bandages falling apart and falling over Ludwig's arms. The thick scent of his father flooded his nose.

"Why are you out here?!" He asked while running back to the home. Italy rushed to open the door and close it against the winds. Mother nature yanking back at the little wooden door, while Italy put all his weight into shutting it. Finally, the door clicked, the tumblers feel, and the home was quiet.

Ludwig placed his son on ground and held his shoulders.

"Why were you out there?! Do have any idea how worried I was?! You could have been killed!" Ludwig's harsh voice was loud, its deep tone vibrated inside Italy's chest, and he was standing away from Ludwig. What it felt like to Leos, must have been similar to an earthquake.

"I-I-i-i-i," Leos began to quiver under his father's heavy hands. His hands balled together and pressing into his chest, his eyes pleading forgiveness.

"Explain yourself!" Ludwig demanded, all that came out was choked cried from the child's mouth. Italy's body froze but his mind tried to justify the boy's actions. There was no reasonable excuse, Leos had done wrong. For which ever reason he choose to stray, none of the were acceptable in the eyes of his father. Rarely had he done anything worth a scolding, and it came as a shock to the Italian.

"I'm sorry, Papa, I-I-I'm sorry," His weak, stuttering voice made Ludwig tense. His brows lifted, as he watched his harsh expression reflect in his son's wide eyes. He took a deep breathe and knelt to his level. Hold the boy's check, he wiped the tears away.

"You have no idea how scared I was, I thought you were buried in rubble, stolen from me, or God knows..." His voice was soft but still firm. "Leos, I don't often need to discipline you, but you must learn to head my words... Stay here..." He ordered. Italy's eyes followed the blonde to the partial destroyed living room. In the intact corner of the room was stand that held a series of old canes.

Ludwig's fingers glossed over the wood of the cane, wrapping around it. Gently pulling I from the rack, he stared at it a moment. Prussia was good at disciplining, he knew how to raise fine troops and men. And he did it by the rod, not by empty threats. Though generally obedient, as a child Ludwig did occasionally push the limit, to which a leather whip or cane would quickly throw him back in place. A method that Ludwig himself deemed acceptable, should it get out of hand, but now he was hesitant to take the cane to his son's flesh. The unique piercing pain that plagued the chest stabbed at Ludwig, the emotional manifestation of pain when he was beat.

Turning, he walked back to his cowering son. He felt Italy's eyes on him, staring in shock. Raising the cane, he took a deep breathe. Leos closed his eyes and braced himself. The air whistled around the cane as it swung down. Leos squeaked, frozen, waiting for the blow.

It never came. Opening an eye, he peered up at his father. The cane was set in front of him.

"First take off those wet clothes, stand by the fire to warm up, but while your getting dry you are going to hold this stick straight out in front of you for ten minutes." Ludwig said. Leos took the stick and backed into the living room. Italy sighed,

"Ludwig, I thought -"

"I could never strike him... I'd be punishing myself... Besides, I do enough damage to him..."

...................

With Leos' room demolished, all three curled together in Ludwig's bed. Italy instantly succumbed to sleep, but despite the fatigue that pulsed in his veins Ludwig could not close his eyes. Leos was curled up against his chest, cold and quiet. He expected his son to avoid him for a while, as most children would, but right after finishing his punishment he was back at his father's side. Perhaps the point of the whole thing. The wind hissed through the window, the rain still relentlessly beating against the house. He watched his friend sleep, the usual smile that was plastered on his tan face had melted away. Propping himself up he watched Italy, how his chest would rise, pause, then deflate in perfect rhythm. Reaching across, he laid his wide palm against the other man's cheek. A smile peeked at that corner of the Italian's mouth. Withdrawing his hand he laid back down, closing his eyes.

...................

Rain showered the house, unyielding in its quest to seek out every pin hole where it could leak in and soil the interior. Shocked it was still raining, Ludwig awoke with a groan. The house was still dark, the luxury of lighting would not grace him today. Outside the protective wrap of the blankets, the air was bitterly cold. His large arms pushed his cold child as close to Italy as possible before rushing from the warm blankets. He went around the bed, tucking his son and his friend in as tightly as possible.

When Ludwig went downstairs his first priority was the fire. He mumbled prayers as he stoked the fire, thankful that at least it would heat some of the home. Next was tuning in the radio, but too his dismay all that came through was static. He figured, if anything, radio communication should be restored first but perhaps he was too hopeful, thinking that anything other than military lines would be priority. Grabbing a long strip of meat and some bread he sat listening to the static and rain. The dripping of water through the numerous holes in the ceiling left his once pristine floor wet and grungy.

As he stood, he stretched his large arms out and cracked his neck. Slipping on his boots he cinched them as tight as he could, knowing he would need every bit of traction. Exiting his home he looked up at the roof and the at the shed. With a sigh his day's work began.

Italy woke up to bangs that shook the house. His first instinct was to duck down, he wrapped the small warm bundle that was Leos and curled up. Pushing against the Italian, he wiggled from his arms,

"What wrong Mr. Italy?" He asked, The series of bangs became clearer to his half asleep mind. The familiar sound of a hammer hitting wood settled him.

"Oh, it just must be Ludwig... Sorry Leos, I panicked." Sitting up, he yawned and patted the boy on the head. Peering out the window he sighed, "He's really working in this weather?" He asked out loud.

"Papa's will get hurt! Get him down," Leos pleaded. A growl of thunder rumbled the home, the tiny boy wrapped around Italy. His thin, cold, arms bones sealed tightly around the other man who tried to comfort him.

"First let get you warmer and fed... Then I will try to talk some sense into Ludwig," He said pulling the boy from the bed. His slender finger gripped Leo's ribs, they felt like icicles beneath taught leather. He gasp slightly, surprised at how frigid the boy was. His skin an eerie ivory with a grey tinge.

_Oh my, this is not normal... He looks... like a living corpse. Could he be this sick? Maybe a good ration of food would help him. I hope the fire is going strong, I should bring the blanket._ Wrapping the child up he walked him downstairs and sat him as close to the fireplace as safely possible before turning to the kitchen.

.............................

The kitchen had become Italy's therapist, he could talk to the soup, the pasta, the bread as he cooked. He would beat the lumps from the dough, feeling strong, perhaps as much as Ludwig, squishing those little helpless, delicious, balls of flour. He could relax over a steaming kettle of soup, letting the heat relax his face. Of course, Pasta would listen to all his woes then solve them by warming his stomach until his body bulged with the lump of food, which now was a rarity. Taking the dried meat, potatoes, and the dried vegetables, he through them in a pot and set it in the fireplace to simmer into a soup. Soon, the tough food would become tender enough to enjoy. Leos watched the pot, the fire molding it's fingers around it.

"When is winter coming?" He asked,

"Soon," Italy said, "Once we harvest, it will start getting cold," He added.

"If we don't harvest will winter stay away?" Leos asked, Italy smiled handed him a bowl,

"That would be nice, ve-"

Leos had eagerly gulped down his portions, Italy filled him with warm water to drink to try and heat him. To his dismay it did little. Leos himself seemed to not be in any distress besides an occasional cough which could very well have been from the amount of smoke and debris. Blaming that as his excuse Italy allowed his mind to worry about getting Ludwig off the roof.

What array of curses would be flung at him? Excuses, scolding, perhaps he would even be ignored in attempt to fix the house, his pride and joy in live which he toiled over day and night. Italy stood up, preparing himself for the long convincing it would be to get his friend down.

.........................

The skies cried down on the country side, flooding the area with streams of water. Italy ran to the side of the house, his coat pulled up over his head to keep dry. His ear lead him to the steady bang of the hammer. The wind pushed Italy back, howling at him to begone. Holding fast, he took a wide stance, turning up to see his drenched friend.

"Ludwig!" He called, The wind caught his voice and pushed it away from the blonde. "LUDWIG!" Italy strained his lungs, the large man turned. "LUDWIG GET DOWN! YOU CAN DEAL WITH THAT LATER!" Italy folded a hand around his mouth to project his timid voice further.

"I have to fix it! Go back inside!" Ludwig said,

"NO! YOU NEED TO GET DOWN, YOUR GOING TO GET HURT!" Ludwig turned his back and started hammering again. Italy gritted his teeth,

"LUDWIG!" He shouted, there was cracked. Both men froze. Some small shards from the roof crumbled down. Then the tiles beneath the German's feet slid like an avalanche. Falling forward he gripped the scales of clay, desperately clawing to find one that would hold him. His boot went over, then a leg, he felt his body begin to dangle. With the teeth of the hammer he slammed it into the roof and stabilized himself, his body half off the roof. Italy ran under him,

"L-LUDWIG!" He shouted. His muscular hand slammed against the crumbling tiles. His hair covering his eyes as he tried to climb up the house, his feet searching for something to brace against. He went still for a moment, his energy gone. He had hurled himself over great walls, swing through deadly obstacles, but the slant of his roof was beating him. Like a lion he roared, deep within his chest, pulling himself as hard as possible. His victory, a few inches. He laid his trembling jaw against the splintered roof. He felt his muscles quiver, his desire fled him. Resting for a moment, the cold rain nipping at his body. A quick bolt of lightening cut the sky followed a by a bellow of thunder. Ludwig closed his eyes, his massive hands let go of the roof. Falling back, he was granted a moment of weightlessness. A sound escaped from his broad chest, like that of a fallen beast.

His body slammed against the ground, Italy had tried to reach out but failed. In the soggy earth eagerly wrapped it's fingers around him,the rain washing them back into the grass. Italy knelt and shook him,

"Ludwig, LUDWIG!" He screamed, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. From the brown mess, blue orbs peered up at him, half dazed. A shivering palm raised to cup the Italy's cheek before it plummeted back down. Hugging his face, Italy wept against his friend.

"It... Italy... I'm okay... I just... need some rest..."

"No! Your not okay, stop saying that! You need help," Italy said,

"I... I can do it," Ludwig argued, steam came from his lips. Wiping the mud from his pale face, he could see his injured friend covered in small sores.

"Ger-Ge-Ger-Germanyyyy," Italy cried, "I'll do something, I'm going to do something to help you! Don't worry!" Italy pledged. Ludwig shifted his massive shoulders and tried to right himself, only to have the slick earth mock him, his face hit the ground. Italy pulled him up, helping him limp to the door.

_My brother... Could I?..._ Italy thought as he aided the blonde. Even now, in weakness, the weight of the crippled man against the earth sent a vibration through the Italian.

..........................

_please R & R ^^_

_Question- did the Leos disobedience scene work? I felt it was a bit awkward, but i wanted him to do something to deliberately disobey his father. Let me knew if you feel it works/doesn't work because I am really unsure. If it doesn't I'll cut it and do something later perhaps._


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer-**_ I don't own hetalia_

**Note-** _thank you for all the R&Rs. ^^ I've been moving so I haven't had my computer for a while. we getting toward the end of this story ^^_

................

Italy had dragged his friend to couch had him stripped. With a towel, he dried him off. Ludwig had no protest, his eyes remaining shut. Moving gently along the curves of his body, Italy soaked up the chilling moisture. The flesh shivered on the muscles and bones, trying to conserve it's heat. Italy's warm hand brushed across his chest and down to his stomach. Only now, without clothing, did he see the true damage that was so easily hidden. His ribs, thick and strong, made for the labor he was fashioned for, began to protrude. The strong muscle that once covered them was wasting away. His hip bones no longer sloped gently into his torso instead there was clear gap between where his ribs ended and hips began.

_I always loved how I could be naked with Ludwig, sure that even in my exposed venerable state, he would not harm me. I always wondered what he looked like nude... always wanted to see... I never expected he could be so venerable, so helpless... Even when injured the earth seemed to shiver under his power... What if... Could he get too weak?_ Italy pushed the thought from his mind and began to wrap the blonde in his robe. Drying his hair he rolled a towel around his friend's head to warm his ears. Leos watched from over the arm of the couch, rubbing his father's cold feet in an attempt to help.

"Is Papa going to be alright?" He asked,

"Yes, he just tried to do too much at once. A good long nap and some hot food will help..." Italy said. The Italian stood up and quickly gathered some things, shoving them into his dust leather briefcase.

"Leos, I have to go take care of something... Just keep an eye on Ludwig, but he should be asleep for a long time." He gave the boy a quick pat on the head.

"But-but,"

"I'm relying on you Leos," Italy said before running out the door.

.......................

It was painful enough knowing he was, for the large part, a hinderance on many but it was even worse when his own friend was being slandered with such disgust in front of him. Romano sat before him, his darker complexion wrinkled with stress, yet overcome with a false joy. His arms across, he stared intensely at his younger brother how was trying not to jitter in his chair.

"Tell me again younger brother! Let me savior his defeat! The bastard!" Romano roared,

"... He was so cruel, the things he did. Even his brother, so affectionate toward me grew hostile. You were right brother, I should have listened to you..." Italy said,

"Aha! What did they do to my little brother?!"

"They practically took over all my duties. They are deporting my citizens... Killing them in massive numbers. Germany's boss is unbearable... Ludwig...Well... It's like he ha a million bosses now, all of them do hell condemning things every second! Insane they are, we have to drag them down from their thrown." Italy bit his tongue and prayed that his words would never trickle down the grape vine to Ludwig.

"So! You finally have come to your senses! Fine then! Turn over all your power to me and I'll clean up your mess!" Romano's blunt offer caught Italy off guard. Confident, the older man's shoulders were back and head high.

"Ehhh, brother as much as I would love not too be responsible anymore, it's complicated. All our relations are tied to Germany. Should we simply turn on them we could guarantee our death, they are already saturated within our borders!" Italy changed his tone to a frantic yelp, pleading. Romano sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. After a moment he leaned forward and glared into his brother's eyes.

"Fine, officially hand power over to me. Instead of taking arms against the merciless prick, I will cooperate with him... To a point. While the Allies close in I will simply let them, put in only enough effort to make it look like I am fighting for the Axis. Once there is enough Allied troops to ensure victory we will do what we did in France. Go with the winning side and be protected by the Allied shield. Then I can strike against the little snake." Romano smiled, holding back his laughter as his face twisted with a sick delight. "How I dream of his writhing body beneath my foot as I crush him." He hissed under his breathe. Italy's teeth chattered against each other, attempts to stay upright were failing.

"Okay, then... Can you draw up some paperwork? I need to get back before he wakes." Italy said. Romano snorted,

"You are not seriously going back to him?!"

"It become more complicated... I... My sudden leave would only stir up trouble, no?" Italy argued,

"This is true... Best to lay low with this kind of betrayal... Anyway, help yourself to something in the fridge, you look half starved." Romano said as he stood.

Italy hadn't bothered to eat, his stomach toiled around his body with such violence he was afraid to ingest even his favorite of gelatos. Despite the economy somehow, most likely through underground connections, his brother had a full fridge of food and rare treats. Most likely at the grave expense of others. But Italy figured his brother was good at that, the ability to separate himself from the suffering of others and pursue his goal was something that was not inborn in himself.

_Exactly why I turned to him._

Romano returned with the papers, his face curled in a smile of delight as he handed his brother a fine pen. Wrapping his slender fingers around the gold metal, he pressed the tip to the paper. Slowly, his wrist twirled and dipped to spell out his signature. No sooner did he dot his i's did Romano rip the paper from under him and hastily scribbled his name on the paper.

"Ahhhh, do not fear Feliciano! I will do right by you by dear brother!" Romano said.

"I know you will, thank you for helping me, I owe you... I really owe you." _Forgive me for lying to you, my brother._ Feliciano thought.

....................

Ludwig felt a softness encase his body. As his eyes fluttered open, he recognized the wool of his robe. His skin was taut from the chill in the air. The autumn weather was setting in early, which switched on his frantic mind. There was a pressure on his body, he was being watched. Looking to the side he noticed his son sitting on the foot stool. The rumble around him, canvas thundering in the wind, the floor wet. Reaching out, he presented his father with a bowl of soup.

"Mr. Italy said you should eat something when you wake up." He said. Ludwig searched for his stomach, was he even hungry? Food was food, he reasoned, and took the bowl from his son.

"You ate, correct?" He asked, Leos nodded. Slowly the man ate, loathing himself for not finishing the roof.

_I am undeserving of this food. I failed to provide a proper home for my son. I let my superiors ravage my land, my people, my son. And it's too late now, I am out of power, this is not my will anymore. This is His country, not Germany... Wait, I understand now. I wouldn't have let it get this far. He would have had to suppress me and get His people in a superior spot before creating His country. A country can kill their Kings... France is proof of that... My God, I did let it happen. I trotted along like an ox with a yoke, happily serving and doing good. I was too joyful that my labor was so excellent that I failed to see I was trampling the fruits of my labor beneath my feet. The blinkers around my eyes and a ring in my nose I let myself be lead and now... I must take action to correct this before it worsens. At least to spare the people, my son, Italy, the wrath of the other nations._

The door clicked, the thundering noise of the rain on the roof grew loud for the moment the door was open. Ludwig twisted his body around to see over the couch. Feliciano stood, soaking wet, shivering with a weak smile on his face. Springing from the sofa, Ludwig ran to him.

"Italy! Where were you? You're soaking wet!" Feliciano just smiled again as he began to shed his clothing. His flesh twitched, his body hair on end, the slightly warmer air in the half collapsed room was comforting. Ludwig undid the clothe belt and slid off the robe. Swiftly he wrapped it around Italy, retreating back to the wet clothes and gathering them. Feliciano was still for a moment, shocked by the kind gesture. The other man's body heat had warmed the wool and was soothing on the skin. His natural scent was marked heavily on the fabric, Feliciano inhaled. Leos was too busy licking the bottom of his bowl to notice what was going on. With gentle hands he pried the bowl from the boy and refilled it.

"Italy where did you go?" Ludwig asked, he reappeared around the corner with dry clothing on. His need to keep his destroyed home neat was something that seemed a waste of energy to Feliciano. Sighing, his heart fluttered in his chest as he looked away from the taller man.

"I... I had to take care of some business... Oh, and call me Feliciano." He said.

Ludwig heard his hear pump once in his ears, his body tense, eyes unfocus as he mind raced. Y he blinked and the emotion came back to his face.

"What...did... you... do..." He punctuated each word.

"I-i-i-i-i, I am helping Ludwig," He stuttered,

"What did you DO?" Ludwig said with a hint of anger. Tears formed at the bottom of the Italian's eyes.

"Ludwig... You need help... You are no longer Germany, you need to get back in power... S-so I am going to help." He tried to look firm, as if he was negotiation a business deal. His trembling hands gave him away.

"By doing what." Ludwig commanded through his teeth.

"Ta-ta-taking out your sa-sa-superiors," Once the words left his mouth Feliciano reconsidered and deemed the idea seemed better in an incorporeal sense. Ludwig's face began to change color. First blushing, then a deep red followed by a purple, final he took a breath and slowly faded back to his normal paleness. His balled fists loosened.

"Do you know what will happen to you when they find out? Feliciano, you don't know where you will be sent! The horrors that you will be tortured with until you die! We have to hide you! We must-"

"Ludwig, relax... They would know know if you reported me... Right?" There was an awkward silence until Feliciano cleared his throat.

"I handed over all my power to Romano for the time being..."

"You WHAT?! Feliciano! He isn't interested in my boss! He wants to see MY head on his platter!"

"I lied to my brother, I'm using him to get the dirty work done. He will betray cooperate with your boss but he isn't going to put effort. Italy will allow the Allies in, they will push to the border of Germany, but remember who is coming from the south of Italy?"Feliciano paused, searching his mind Ludwig thought a moment.

"That self righteous prick," Ludwig hisssed,

"America. And all of there publications, responses, and focus is on your boss. Alfred himself has little qualms with you." Feliciano tried to reason.

"This is true... But Allies are Allies, the Russians, The English, we all have history. Gruges that are going to be settled... Feliciano... You really think Germany will loose the war?"Ludwig held his hand over his face and turned away. Feliciano was silent, fidgeting in his own skin at the very though of loss.

"What if you win?" Feliciano asked, Ludwig stiffened. "You will be under their well trained eyes until someone challenges you again. Ludwig will have no control over Germany, over himself, if this continues... I know going to my brother was a cowardly thing, but please forgive me. How many more people will die if you stay like this? Forgive me... F-f-forgive me Ludwiiigggg!" Feliciano wiped the tears from his eyes. A boiling heat churned in Ludwig's chest.

_He is a coward, he betrayed you!_

_ No, he's helping to stop the war._

_ He's saving his own skin!_

_ We are friends, Feliciano and Ludwig are friends._

_ Feliciano and Ludwig, not Germany and Italy!_

_ And as a friend he has the advantage of being on the outside looking in... Should I trust him?_

_ No! Traitor to the fatherland! Turn him in, let him see exactly how powerful we are!_

_ I can't, this is Feliciano._

_ Crush Italy beneath our palms and let Feliciano suffer his own fate!_

_ The people that will die..._

_ This is war! They die for the fatherland, for millions of other lives not to die!_

_ But if ending this better?... Is this state of being that great?_ Ludwig looked around his destroyed him. Breathing in the scent of rain and dirt he sighed. His eyes fell to where Leos was sitting.

_I just want them safe._

"...Feliciano... It is..." the smaller flinched, waiting for his friends harsh words. "Fine," _Perhaps it is better... At least he will be spared..._

_.....................  
_

Diner was a silent meal, Ludwig's anger had went from a heated spring in his belly to heartburn. Occasionally he reach up to rub his chest and sigh before continuing his meal. Feliciano sat across from him, avoiding the blue eyes and staring into the bowl of soup. Leos was between them, head down on the table, almost falling asleep. Barely touching his food, the boy would cough and swallow whatever phlegm came up for supper. Ludwig rubbed his hands on his son's back,

"Let's get you to bed, you need some rest." He picked his son up and leaned him against his shoulder. When he turned, Leos' foggy eyes drifted to Feliciano.

"Good night Mr. Italy," His whispered, Feliciano smiled,

"Call me Feliciano,"

"Good night Mr. Feli," He corrected himself.

Tucking the covers beneath the boy, Ludwig positioned him so that later he and Feliciano could slip in easily without moving Leos. Pushing the child's hair back he rested his hand again his forehead. He was warm, his flesh was turning sickly. Leos looked up at his father, his eyelids uneven, pupils cloudy.

"I love you, Papa..." He reached his small hand up and gripped Ludwig's shirt. He gave a shallow breathe and let his eyes roll back, his heavy lids sealing his vision away.

"Leos... Leos?... Leos?!" Ludwig's tone began to panic until his little fist squeezed, reassuring his father.

"Don't scare me like that..." Ludwig said resting his hand on Leo's chest. "If you need anything, call. I'll be up later to check on you." He said,

"Papa... Is going to make me better?" Leos breathed, leaning down Ludwig wrapped his arms around the feeble boy.

"You'll be well in no time." He said, "Oh, look, gotta tuck the sheets in again," Ludwig said as he forced the covers back around his son's body. Smoothing out the edge he look at his son, who weakly smiled back and closed his eyes again. Rounding out the last imperfections of the comforter, he look back at Leos who was now well concealed under the blanket.

......................

"You are late,"

"So?" Prussia hissed as he walked in the door. The building was old, made of red brick and wood paneling. The inside was well lit with candles, the only building in the town that was illuminated. Before Prussia was an older man, his skin stiff and wrinkled, eyes sharp, his uniform in perfect order. He carried a walking stick, engraved with great detail. Taking off his soggy coat, Prussia flipped his hair back into something presentable and straightened his tie. Just as he was hanging the wet jacket the walking stick smacked against his hand.

"You were suppose to be here seven hours ago...Where were you?" The man demanded, the tap from his walking stick inched closer.

"... There was a bombing on the way, I went to see if my brother was alright." Prussia's eyes narrowed, both of the men staring at each other.

"Unacceptable," He scolded, "Your experience was needed here. The meeting had to be postponed and some of the leaders needed to return home! The Fuhrer was very disappointed in you, as was Himmler, let alone the other military leaders... It appears as if Prussia truly has become weak." He hissed. Prussia's eye twitched as he stared down the man.

"I was concerned for my brother, that is hardly a weakness. The roads were bombed out, the storms are flooding low areas, I came as fa-"

"SILENCE! Letting your emotions get in the way of what is important is weakness! Why are we going on expeditions? Why are we studying ancient texts? We know one thing the old races had right. Do not attach yourself and anchor to things!"

"Oh, that is taken completely out of contex-"

"SILENCE! Insubordinate little bastard! Ludwig is under our control! But he too is weak! Look at that disgusting little infant he cares for! Draining our resources he is. He should go out back and put a bullet in the thing's skull."

"Shows how stupid you are. The boy is ordered to be kept alive by the Fuhrer himself." Prussia rebuttled with a smirk. The was a moment of quiet followed by a stifled chuckle.

"To think, the once great Prussia is now working to defend a feeble little mouse. There is no way the Great Prussia would let himself fall victim to something like concern for a man who can take care of himself and his rattling. You've lost your touch, your military strategies are worthless if you let your affections get in the way." He said.

"MY strategies worthless? Ha, The Fuhrer and his men need to revise what they thing is worthy then!" Prussia snapped,

"And what? Stop war if a rabbit in is the field? Yield to the weak? Reverse evolution? We are the superior, what we say goes." The man stated,

"Oh? Then why is that Russian Freak boning the Fatherland in the ass!?" Prussia roared

"EXCUSE ME?"

"Yea, some geniuses you are! Having all your flanks spread out for the Allies to fuck like the Fuhrer's mistress!*"

There was stillness in the air. Prussia's mind stopped, the wind ceased, even the rain seemed to levitate. Finally the clock ticked and a door opened to the size. Other people, drawn by the noise of the argument began to appear. Whispered began to hum in the background.

"Did you hear that?"

"The Fuhrer will have his head."

"That was something else,"

Prussia began to block out the voices, his red eyes focused only on the man who provoked the reaction.

"Keitel," Prussia hissed under his breathe. A smile spread across his, face. Turning on the pale haired man, he went to the liquor cabinet. Selecting a small glass he popped the cork off of a bottle and emptied its contents while the others slowly flooded the room. Swirling the liquid in the glass he raised it.

"To the late Gilbert Beilschmidt, may God have mercy. Arrest him for treason!" He ordered, Prussia turned to the men who had surrounded him.

"I order you back! I am Prussia!" He demanded, the men didn't heed. One grabbed his arm, the other a boot and they fell to the floor. Struggling, the nation kicked out and rolled on the floor to try and dislodge his attackers. Keitel smiled, sipping from the glass as he watched Gilbert being taken down like a wild beast. Soon, there were too many men to see the pale victim, one rose a walking stick high and cracked it down. A yelp, a thump, and then silence.

"Take him to Berlin, let Himmler deal with him."

.......................

_Hitlers Mistress- believed to be Eva Braum._

_A vast amount of the soldiers invading Italy on the Allied side were American sent although there were others. America's concern was Hitler and Japan. Unlike others in the war, there wasn't hundreds of years of turmoil and history between them (unlike Russia or France). Though that doesn't mean there wasn't huge abuses going on, the primary concern was government._

_Keital- Minster of War for Germany._

_During this time in the war Mussolini and Italians looked at as only a matter of time before the "shit hits the fan". On the other hand, Many Germans were victim of false information and the War still appeared to be going their way. At this point Germany is still on the move on the Eastern front but activity is low and soon will be retreating, they are spread out over all fronts._

_France, personally I think they are the masters of beheading their kings.  
_

_Though not a country at the time, Prussia's military was a model for the German military. Almost the exact same thing with a few changes. It would be natural for Gilbert to have his hand in the pot as far as military involvement, not matter how slight or even if they would listen. Which apparently they don't XD._

_please R&R ^^_


	21. Chapter 21

_Disclaimer- I don't own Hetalia_

_Note- sorry about the long gap of time, final exams and such. Any way the musical piece to this is Web of Lies by the Orchestra Two Steps From Hell (utube it if you like). Using some harsh language in here ^^' so heads up. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews_

.....................

It was one of the few pleasures left, sleeping under warm covers. He let his mindset drift to that of an infant's, imaging his body wrapped in the warm protective embrace. All was well for the few moments in the early morning. The gentle patter of the rain still was persistent, eventually troubling Ludwig from his comfortable position. Stretching a bit, his hands touched something cold. Instinctively he flinched away, but then grew curious. Under the covers it felt as if a bag of ice had been place between him and Feliciano. Expecting a cold shingle or wood from the ceiling, he prodded the object to figure it's dementions. It was smooth, but lumpy. His warm hands pushed up and a softness came from it. Flipping up the covers and letting the precious heat go, he revealed the object.

"Leos! Leos open your eyes!" The boy was curled in a ball, his clothing kicked away and cold sweat covering him. His jaw was relaxed and open, skin a translucent hue, his ribs barely lifting with his breathe. Italy stirred, use to waking up to Ludwig's shouts. His eyes flinched when the cold hair touched his skin.

"Ve, I need to wear more to bed now a da-" He fell silent when he was Ludwig over his son, shaking him gently to get him to wake. Leos did nothing but be tossed around like a rag in his father's hands.

"Leos! Leos, wake up!" Ludwig shouted, his blues eyes wide with fear as he looked at his friend.

"Get the stethoscope! Call a doctor!" He ordered, Feliciano fled down stairs. Grabbing the leather bag with the cross he hurried back up and threw it to Ludwig before leaping down the stairs again and rushing to the phone. Yanking the ear piece to his face a horrid static screeched at him. Pounding the cradle he tried to get a tone.

"Please, please, please," He cried softly. Slamming down the phone he ran to the typograph. His fingers working as fast as they could. The keys punched sharply as they sent the message off to whoever could receive it.

"RADIO MY BROTHER!" Germany shouted from the top of the stairs, "USE THE TELEGRAPH!" Feliciano whipped around and ran to the counter were the little machine lay. Fumbling as he tried to remember his code, he sent the message. His blood rushed to his head, the thump of his heart punching against his ribs. Looking to the corner he remembered the radio that was stuck in the cabinet. Flinging the doors open he took the small microphone. His slender fingers trying to tune into some military lines.

"Hello? Hello! Someone?" He spoke frantically.

"What? Who is this? This is a radio for military personal only! Get off!" Feliciano sighed with relief as the man scolded him from the other line.

"This is! We need a hospital or a doctor! We need Gilbert Beilschmidt! I am calling from his brother Ludwi-"

"Beilschmidt has been arrested and taken to Berlin! Drive to a hospital but all of our resources are on the front! Who is this? I'll have you ha-" Feliciano clicked the voice off.

Arrested. His chest began to ache. The questions began bouncing in his head, colliding and making a jumbled mess of his thoughts. Ludwig's harsh voice called from upstairs,

"Feliciano! Has anyone responded yet?" Holding his shaking fingers he walked up the staircase. Ludwig was bent over his son, stethoscope in hand, pressing it against the grey skin of the boy. Ludwig eyes were wide, the blue of his iris gone and replaced with the fearful void of his pupil.

"...Gilbert has been arrested," Feliciano whispered.

......................

Even the air wanted to escape the room. The haggard blonde had went still, his chiseled face like stone as he stared at Feliciano. For moment, the smaller man though he might have died and stiffened in that position. Then his eye twitched, slowly he stood upright.

"Where did they take him?"

"Berlin," Feliciano squeaked,

"What happened?! How did-"

"I don't know!" Feliciano exclaimed. Ludwig began to pace.

"We need to get Leos medical attention first," Ludwig said, his hand squeezing his forehead as if he was going to press the answer to his problems from his skull. "Berlin is close, but dangerous, but it has medical staff... Gilbert... DAMN IT!" Ludwig's fist slammed down on the table. Trying to compose himself, he turned away from his friend.

"We have no choice... We have to go to Berlin... Ludwig... We can split up, I can take Leos to the hospital and you can find Gilbert." Feliciano suggested.

"But Feliciano you ca-" Ludwig sealed his mouth quickly before his thoughts become words.

"...You don't trust me do you?" Feliciano said, his face wrinkle was a frown.

"No, its not that... I just... He is my son, I want to be there... But Gilbert,"

"Ludwig please! Just trust me! I'll take the best care of him, I'll make sure he gets help! Let me do this one thing for you,"

"Stop it Italy!" Ludwig hissed, the Italian had been fighting off crying but his friends tone had broken his defenses. Tears silently rolled down his cheeks as he watched his friend's back shift with his heavy breathing.

"You... You think you are always so in debt. Like you don't do enough. Stop it." Ludwig growled.

"No, you still don't get it Ludwig!" Italy made an aggressive move, yelling at the larger man. His stance widened, the gentle gleam in his eye heated to a spark. "That is what friends do! They just help! There is no debt collector of deeds! I can do whatever I want to help you and Leos. You think I am trying to prove something!? I wish to help out of love for you and our friendship. Your people are suffering and my people are suffering! I've been dominated by hundreds of rulers and countries! I know how the world works! The least anyone in this world can do is make one friend who will treat them as such as not a asset!" Feliciano's relation to Romano was clear, the hot blooded young man had his teeth gritted and he stared down the German. "Tell me Ludwig... Why did you really become friends with me?" Ludwig head feel and he turned his back on Feliciano.

"I figured... The more people on my side... The better chances of winning I had." He answered. Still seething, Feliciano's eye's began to swell with tears.

"What about now? Am I just worth my military?"

"... No... Feliciano, your military isn't worth a shit... I want to be your friend because... I'm not sure, it's just something I want to do..." Warm arms slid between his clenched sides and wrapped around his waist. Feliciano buried his face in the back of his friend.

"Ludwig," He squeaked, "I'm sorry," He whimpered. Setting a hand over Feliciano's he sighed and closed his eyes. Pulling away from his touch, Feliciano wiped his eyes and tried to look serious.

"We have to go to Berlin, I'll get Leos ready." He said,

"I'll pack some emergency supplies," Ludwig said.

..........................

Gilbert sat tied in the back of a truck. The rain pouring on the canvas roof pattered softly. The roar of the truck struggling over washed out roads jerked him back and forth, yanking at his tied wrists. His brilliant eyes staring off into the darkness. Sniffing, he tried to suck the blood back up his nose. His face was crusted with dirt and stains, clothing torn, bruises in the shape of footprints stamped on his chest. Breathing deep, he cringed at the sharp pain in his side, his mind replaying the sounds of cracks and crunches from his former comrades blows.

The truck stopped suddenly and Gilbert was thrown into the wall of the truck. Twisting around he slammed his feet against it, the boots clashing with the metal shook the truck.

"Fucking cock suckers! Fuck you! You're the traitors! You betrayed us you son's of bitches!" He screamed as he pounded at the truck.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" He slammed both feet into the truck, arching his back and fighting against his bounds. The vehicle began to move, speeding up quickly.

"Fuck your mothers!" The truck skidded to a halt and Gilbert flew forward face first into the metal. The truck when on in normal speed and Gilbert recovered from his fall.

"Fuck you!" He slammed his entire body into the truck, shaking it as it rumbled along the road. It screeched to a halt again, and Gilbert tasted metal. With his arms tethered, he lay slumped with his hands above his head, staring at the floor. His desire to get up again was no more, he sighed and closed his eyes. Awaiting his destination.

.................................

Feliciano sat in the back seat with Leos' head on his lap. Monitoring his shallow breathing, he gently stroked the pale boy's hair while Ludwig tested the strength of his car. He boy's flesh had no tautness to it, sagging in anyway gravity wanted to yank it. His eyelids half open, pupils wide, his body cold. Feliciano trembled in the back seat, but the shaking of the car hid that from Ludwig's ever present eye on the mirror. Softly praying, both men were silent through the ride. Their own thoughts cluttered their skulls to the point where each had to remind himself to breathe.

_What have I done? I had to save my people, but at what cost? The German people? The German military? I was a fool to think my brother would ever consider working with the German people to spare an agonizing end... Now it is my fault. Romano won't even attempt to hold a front, not for a moment. I don't have any power to even cancel out his decisions... What a mistake... Oh, God, what have I done? I've killed him! I've killed Ludwig, who knows what will happen if he find's himself defeated... Leos... Look at that face..._Feliciano cupped the limp boy's cheek. _Don't die. Please, Ludwig would just be broken... Leos, please don't die, please, please, please, please, please!_ Feliciano shut his eyes, unable to look at the boy any longer. His hand soothingly stroking his cheek. Ludwig's eyes watch from the mirror.

_My son... My boy, my people...Can something so frail survive?... yes. I've witnessed the extremes, he can pull through... This has to end now, I can't loose him. This is my country and I've been too lenient and intimidated. Whatever my brother did... Oh, Gilbert, I pray to God it wasn't severe enough to earn execution. I need him badly. I'm not tolerating this shit anymore!_ Gripping the steering wheel tighter, his eyes plastered back to the road. In the distance he could see the smoldering city of Berlin.

.........................

"Conspiracy against the Fatherland, plotting to kill high ranking officers, threats against the Fuehrer, , and attempting to rally others! I could never have imaged it..."

"What!? I didn't do any of that!" Gilbert sat, his legs not hobbled and a solider guarding him in the back of the truck. An officer sat across from him, paper in hand, looking disheartened at Gilbert. His neatly trimmed mustache was salted with flecks of grey, his eyes soft and sad.

"Gilbert, Kietel wrote the report himself."

"Kietel lied!" Gilbert hissed, "I spat an insult! I'm not planning to do anything to the Fuehrer!" Gilbert voice was almost begging, leaning as far as he could to the man, the solider yanked him back.

"Unfortunately, this must be judged by someone higher than myself... If it was me Gilbert... I'd have seen mercy on you. But I'm just here to escort you to Himmler." Gilbert stopped breathing, his eyes drifted, heart fluttered.

_I'm dead_

_......................  
_

There was a different gleam in Feliciano's eyes, something Ludwig had never seen before. It wasn't a brightness, perhaps a darkness, but not an evil one. Aggressive, but not out of anger, perhaps fear. Ludwig took a moment to ponder it as he stared into his friend's gaze. His son cradled in the smaller mans arms.

"I trust you," Ludwig said. Reaching from the car window he held his son's hand for only a moment, "I love you," He whispered before looking back at Feliciano. His blue eyes glossed with fear, trying to hide his turmoil. The inner struggle was cracking through, shining a black light through his dilated pupils. Feliciano in turn did not react to his friend's look, but instead firmly nodded. Trying to offer some reassurance. Ludwig looked forward and stepped on the gas pedal, the car shrilled as it jerked forth unto the road, racing toward inner Berlin.

.........................

Gilbert struggled against his captors, his wild eyes flashing to bystanders and former allies. Some looked away in shame, knowing the man was blamed far beyond his actions. Others smirked, remembering any little order or comment that angered them in the past. Jamming his boot heels into the cobbled stone, the soldier's on either side of up fought to keep the man moving. The rain on his face, the ashy taste to the Berlin air, the sounds of horseshoes on stone, the taste of water born from the heavens, he wanted to experience every last feeling for as long as possible.

"For the Fatherland! I've done everything for my beloved Fatherland! This is how you ungrateful bastards repay me?!" He screamed. Both soldiers tried to lift him up off the ground to prevent his heels from stalling them any longer, but the lithe man swung his legs and landed a few good blows in their shins. Roughly pushing him forward, Gilbert retaliated with teeth, biting nearest to him on the shoulder. He the thick wool protected the soldier, who looked confused at the prisoners gnawing. With a punch to the head he dazed the man. For a few feet Gilbert was dragged along without a fight. Twisting and arching his back he gave his last attempt to flee, but he was pushed to his knees.

..........................

Ludwig saw the grand gates of the familiar government buildings. Generally, sentencing was carried out in the courtyard for all to see and learn from. A thick crowd has wrapped around it, huddling at the gate to get a look in the yard. Calvary men were pushing civilians back, the horse's dancing in fret as the crowds pushed back. Ludwig pulled off the road, not ever thinking of parking anywhere close to the commotion. Running to see, his uniform shining with the badges he purposefully decorated himself with. Thinking if Gilbert had been in true danger, displaying every merit visibly on his body may gain him some leverage in negotiating. The crowd seemed to part for Ludwig, even the horses shied from his presence. Squeezing into the deepest part of the crowd around the gate, a guard urged him back.

"Everyone must disband! There is nothing to see!" Over the protests of the people swearing echoed from the walls. The voice was instantly recognized by Ludwig.

"Gilbert!" Without thinking Ludwig shoved the guard aside and slammed himself against the gate. There in the courtyard, his brother struggled. Troops lined up on both sides of the yard, waiting in formation.

................................

Gilbert fought to stand up, but the two soldiers kept him on his knees. He heard the doors slam open, the feet of perhaps hundreds of soldiers meet and stiffen. The hails cry from the men in uniform, the clicking of shoes heading toward him. Looking up, his wild eyes saw the man, his heart clawed at his breast bone, slamming inside him, desperate to get out from his body and run. The dark eyes focused on him like a hawk on a rabbit, a gun in one hand he stared down the kneeling man. Reaching down he grabbed Gilbert by the collar and stuck the gun under his chin.

"Back away from him men," He ordered, his voice casual. Gilbert's red eyes fixed on the man. Spite, fear, a tint of feral instinct, mixed in face as he contemplated his final moments. Himmler looked to the men by his side.

"I said, back away." He punctuated, the soldiers distanced themselves further. Leaning in, he brought his lips to Gilbert's ear.

"Regardless of what it says in the official records, I know you didn't do it." He whispered, "I know Kietel falsified the records, and for that he will pay. But the problem right now is you. Saying such blasphemous things about our fuehrer... You think we are doing such wrong?" He asked, Gilbert was frozen. "answer me," Himmler hissed softly.

"I've seen you wrong doing in the black snow that falls from the brick tunnel to heaven." Gilbert spat, jamming the gun deeper into his flesh, Himmler snorted.

"Well then, here is your opportunity to prove yourself useful. There is a difference between you and I and the hundreds of people gathered around us right now... We know we are loosing the war. So, here is my proposition. Let me take care of Kietel, erasing the records, and put you in a position of military power. But, before I do any of that you have to prove yourself to the Fatherland again." He whispered, Gilbert ear twitched at the feeling of his breath against his skin.

"What," He spat,

"Go to the eastern front and lead us to victory against the Russians."

"If I refuse?"

"The the records stand and I blow your head all over this courtyard," He said.

"It's winter... You can't do anything to Russia in the -"

"Are you gonna take my offer or not?" Himmler interrupted. The yard was silent, the rain tapping lightly, as if heaven was impatiently waiting for a response. For a moment Gilbert's eyes closed.

"I'll lead the Eastern Front."

_............................._

_if you like please R&R ^^._


	22. Chapter 22

_Disclaimer- I don't own hetalia._

_Note- Thanks to all my reviewers, i really appreciate all the feed back :). Battles may not be historically accurate as I have let them soak in a metaphor world, so my apologies in advance ^^. And for some reason dash lines won't work to separate the sections now... so I'm using periods, I hope this hasn't happened with the rest of the chapters.  
_

_*This is my fault, I haven't been clear about it and have been getting a lot of polar opposite interpretations of Leos. Leos is a personification of all German people, which is where the interpretations splits. This depends on your personal view. Leos is a symbol just as much as he is a character. If you believe Jews, Gypsies, black, or minority races are separate nationality than German, then their suffering does not affect you believe anyone in Germany who considers themselves a German is one, than they fall under Leos suffering. The opinions go on and on. So basically Leos is customizable to your point of view, there is no wrong interpretation of him ^^._

_

* * *

_

"Just give him honey or sugar water," Gilbert said. Leaning against the bars of his cell, his arms reached out form his confines to intertwine with his brothers. Ludwig rested his forehead against the steel, as if their strength could support his crumbling mental state. His leathered hands wrapped tightly around his brother's, shaking. All he knew about the eastern front, rumor, myth, or fact, was now true in his mind. Ludwig imaged his brother leading the tired troops deep into General Winter's palms. If not stricken down with a bullet, starvation and cold would claim his brother for sure.

"I will fix this, I'll... go to the Fuehrer right now," Ludwig promised. Gilbert shook his head.

"No," He sighed, "There is no point... Germany will fall. I only hope our enemies see mercy on us... For those in power will only have delectable death to look forward too. It is us that will suffer, the people, at the mercy of the victors." Gilbert predicted. "Take care of Leos, give him that honey, put it on a finger and stick it in his mouth. His senses usually perk up to that better than a tube or shoving it in his mouth to choke on. He always snaps out of those death spells once the turmoil is over... Just make sure his body gets what it needs to survive."

"Brother..."

"Hey," Gilbert raised his hand up and ruffled his brother's hair, ruining it's semi neat state, "I've dealt with Russia before... I'll figure something out. They are supplying me with whatever I need to win... Or rather with whatever they can. You should worry about the duties you need to take over, surviving, Feliciano and Leos... When this country collapses you have to be prepared to pick up the pieces." Gilbert said, "Go now... I need to be alone..." Gilbert said, obediently Ludwig began to leave when a lithe hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

"I love you,"

..................................................

"Vargas? Mr. Vargas?" The nurse called out. The hospital had been partially destroyed. The demolished yard in front was now the waiting area where name after name was called, the verdict of the fate of their loved ones handed to them as casually as a newspaper before going on to the next name on the list. It was Feliciano's turn, walking past a young woman, crying inconsolably while what he assumed to be her husband held her, her muffled cries were sharp even when her face was tucked away in his thick wool coat.

"Me-i-in kin-d! Mei-n-n Schoenes Kind!" Italy had not an clue what she wept in her shattered cries, but tried to ignore her and focus on receiving his own information. Above the cry of many, the nurse shouted out more names that began with 'V' and escorted the small group inside. Half the building had been leveled, but the western wing was functional, working to full capacity. Nurses worked by candles, saving the electricity for the patients. Victims lined the halls, crying out in agony, or trying not too. From inside the group was broken down further by urgency of news. A doctor who's body looked drenched in fluids other than his own eliminated half the group by handing them little slips of paper. Crying out in protest, they were quickly ushered out.

"Vargas?" The doctor called, Feliciano stepped forward. Gesturing him to follow, the doctor walked down a corridor. The injured begged as he past, medicine, painkillers, or for death. Mauled, burned, hastily sewn together with what looked like common string, the sight horrified Feliciano. Below them, not on beds, were the dead and un-savable. Wrapped in dirty sheets to keep their blood and parts from leaking unto the floor. Some of the bundles still twitched, giving a last moan. Shaking, Feliciano stayed close to the doctor, as if he would offer some kind of protection. They turned into a small room jammed full with patients. In the back was Leos, his tiny body grey and stiff. Pushing other stretchers out of the way, the doctor lead him to the boy.

"He is in a coma," He stated, "Why he fell into it I can't explain. There appears to be no swelling of the brain or evidence of a serious injury. His starvation is quiet advanced, however usually people don't stay in unconscious long before dying of starvation. So I do not think it is his lack of food... For now we have him on sugar water... To be honest, there is nothing we can do for him that can't be done in your care. I'm discharging him, it would be better if he died in his own bed than here anyway..." The sheer nonchalant way the doctor announced Leo's fate make Feliciano's brain short out for a moment. His balance shifted, feeling like he was going to fall he widened his stance.

"...Are you s-saying... He is going to die?" Feliciano felt the sting of tears begin to gather in his eyes.

"Mr. Vargas, I can't say he will die, he may wake up as suddenly as he went to sleep... But I've never seen a patient so emaciated, in such a deep coma, that has come out. Especially with the meager supplies we have here." The doctor explained.

"Can... May I take him now?"

"You must wait for the discharge papers, but once you sign off he will need to leave."

.................................................................

Feliciano nearly pushed others out of his way in attempt to get out of the horrid hospital. Bursting into the courtyard, he wished to never go inside such a place again. The others who waited patiently to get in, or weeping for their losses, paid no mind to the shivering young Italian. Settling on the curb, he waited for Ludwig. Pulling his knees up and cradling his head, he stared at the asphalt. Any thought he has was jumbled with others, passing through his mind so rapidly he didn't even bother to ponder any. Finally, a shiny black car slowly rolled up, the tires caked with mud and sticks from the back roads. Looking up he sigh with relief when he saw Ludwig jump from the car.

"Feliciano! What happened?" He asked as he grabbed unto his friend.

"Oh... Ludwig," He squeaked as his tears overflowed, "It's horrid in there! I don't want Leos to be in there a moment longer!" He proclaimed.

"How is he!?" Ludwig begged, kneeling and eagerly pressing the Italian for answered.

"They said... There is nothing they can do for him here that we couldn't do at home... Rather than keep him in that wretched building, they are discharging him." Feliciano explained. Ludwig was in a stiffened slump, his eyes stared off. "L-Ludwig?" Feliciano asked.

"There is nothing? Nothing at all?" Ludwig asked again, Feliciano shook his head.

"I am waiting for the discharge papers now... Ludwig... what can we do now?" He asked. The German sat beside his friend, tucking his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his head, being sure no one could see his face. He was silent. Feliciano merely watching and sniffling, waiting for an answer. Ludwig breathed deeply and struggled to exhale, his choppy breathe clearly audible. His back flinched up, a high pitch, quick, squeak of anguish echoed from beneath his arms. Breathing in again, the cry got louder, a deep, scattered breath sobbing. Feliciano froze, Ludwig's noises grew louder until he was sure the German was crying. Wrapping his feeble arms around the massive man, Feliciano attempted to console him. His sounds made both of their bodies tremor, marked by heart thrashing squeals of primal pain that made Ludwig want to smash his skull into the ground until it was nothing but a red soup.

"No... NO!" The German lifted up his arm and struck his own car, denting the tire rim. He continued his assault, Feliciano half tackling him pleading him to stop. Screaming an incoherent slur of German, he clawed at the metal, making it shrill as his nails sheered the paint off. Smashing his head into the steel, the pain shocked him back, grabbing his face he let himself fall against the street. Feliciano was instantly over him,

"Ludwig! Ludwig! Are you okay?" Feliciano tried to moved the broad hands that covered his face, but could not budge them. Wedging at the finger's a gelid blue iris looked up in pain. Feliciano withdrew his hands and let the man cover his face again. The merits that adorn his breast and shoulders had been scattered in the street, meaningless shiny objects which he foolishly thought had any gravity in his life. Still, as a gesture, Feliciano gathered them slowly, leaving Ludwig to wept for a moment. When the bits of metal had been gathered, he returned to his friend, laying his hand on his side.

.......................................

For a moment Ludwig sat, drained of any will to move, staring at the body of his son lifelessly resting on the bed. His ears strained to hear the light straining of breathe coming from his agape mouth. The wind mourned, moaning as it traveled through a house, carrying with it the tears of heaven that misted the men and the boy. Leaning down, his weak and shuttering arms wrapped around the child and inhaled his scent. Ludwig's breathe again turned unsteady, but this time he held back his emotion. Feliciano sat by his side, a jar of amber syrup in his hands. When the men's eyes met, Feliciano flinched away, the blue iris were sharp with such pain he could bring himself to look at his companion. Instead he adverted his eyes down into the honey jar, silently thanking God some kindly old shopkeeper allowed them to buy it for a fraction of it's worth. Convinced he was on death's door, the old man resigned that rather than have someone loot his shop he would get a few last good deeds in before meeting God. The man's kindness left them with several jars of the stick sweet. Now it was only a matter of getting it in Leos' stomach.

"Should we just put a bit on a spoon and pour it down his throat?" Feliciano asked.

"... Gilbert said not to do that... He said to put a dab on a finger and I guess work it into his mouth. That he usually reacts..." Ludwig replied.

"So, this is normal? That means he'll get better?" Feliciano's voice perked up for a moment but Ludwig's expression remained a mix of agony and suffering.

"...His fate is tied in with the people's... Gilbert isn't just fighting because he has too... It's his people too... Leos is..." Ludwig bit his lip and sighed. Dipping the tip of his finger into the honey he took a miniscule amount of the thick nectar. Bending his son's head back slightly, he worked his large finger into his mouth. Rubbing the bit of honey on the drying tongue, he waited for any reaction. His eyes widened and he gasped.

Leos' tongue had twitched. Quickly, Ludwig dipped another finger into the jar and stuck it in his boy's mouth. This time his reaction was stronger. The tiny muscle shifted, his mouth began to salivate. Ludwig's heart began to pound, the desperate look on his face vanished and was replaced by shock. A weak smile trembled on his pale lips.

"Water! Feliciano please, we need to keep him hydrated!" Jumping from his spot, Feliciano rushed down the stairs. A gleam of hope began to shimmer in Ludwig's eyes and he finger fed his son. Weakly his tongue moved and throat swallowed, but nevertheless it took down the food.

....................

It had been a long trip from Berlin to the front. The claws of winter had already scrapped the land bare, leaving a trail of ice and snow. The persistent rain formed pools of mud that seemed to specially target the truck Gilbert was siting in. The vehicle was crusted over with the earth flesh, barely able to see from the windows and dripping with water. The engine steamed and moaned, far too much water had come in contact with it's vital parts and was now inching toward the line of tents. Frustrated with the slowness of the travel, Gilbert flung the door open and proceeded to walk faster than the car. A group of soldiers sat cooking over a flame when they caught a glimpse of Gilbert.

Taking the time to dress before his departure, he was gleaming with gold and metal. His flawless coat and uniform were that of his old kingdom, but brilliantly colored. His ruby eyes shimmered fiercely at the men who immediately jumped up and shouted out to the others. As the word spread all of the soldiers ran from their tents and assembled in lines. Before Gilbert was even within it's bounds, the army was waiting for him. High ranking officers stood back and quickly examined their units, but they themselves fidgeted when they felt the Prussian's eyes on them. Standing proudly before his new military, Gilbert arched his shoulders back.

"I am Gilbert Beilschmidt! All of you will yield to me! Regardless of your stature! I am Prussia! I am The Army, The Commander, The King who could not be defeated by the seven nations who dared challenged me!" Gilbert's voices was deep, roaring over the cast amounts of people lined before him. A guard snickered

"He likes to overstate his position doesn't he?" Without turning Gilbert pulled the gun from his holster and shot to the side. The guard fell with a shrill of agony, another gunshot echoed over the field. The wails continued, the insulting guard thrashing in the mud while other hurried to help him. His knees blow and shattered to pieces.

"You may have heard from your grandfathers that I, The Prussian, am no man to anger or insult. My military is always run under the strictest of procedures! You betray me you wind up exactly like this writhing bastard of a pig here!" Prussia pointed as they dragged his body up on a stretcher. "You are fighting for your wives! Children! Germans and our Nation! Too long have we been forced to yield to the weak! Tomorrow Russian cowards will hang by their throats and General Winter will head OUR COMMANDS!" A roar of cheers burst from the crowd, some out of fear, others out of sheer pride. The snarky guard's fate was in the past already, the men rallied with a sense of union. Gilbert wild eyes looked to the east, the sky as red as his eyes. Widening his stance, jaw clenched, the curdling hate in his blood blocking his vision as the Russian wind came to sting his exposed skin.

...........................................

After a few hours of dropping water and honey into Leos the two men ventured into the kitchen. The broth prepare long ago was still on the rack in the fire place. Bringing it back to a boil, the men finished the kettle, licking the bottoms of their bowls. Sitting side by side on the couch, they listened to the storm. Curling a bit, Feliciano's eyes drifted band forth from his lap to Ludwig, who was leaning against the arm of the couch. Noticing this, and Feliciano's ever shifting position, he sighed. Opening his posture a bit, he silently invited the Italian into his embrace. Nesting right up to Ludwig, the smaller man breathed deep. How long he had yearned for that musky odor and strong arms enfolded around him. The warm yet firm flesh that seemed to ward off all the troubles.

"Feliciano... I," Ludwig began but stopped talking. His eyes were chalky, dull from tiredness and stress. Reaching up, the brunette touched his friend's strong jaw, reassuring him for the moment they were fine. The hot breathe of the Italian on his neck and the German's on his hair bloomed a new desire.

_I forgot how nice it feels to have him so close. _Ludwig thought. Unconsciously drawing closer, noses nearly touching, both men's skin tinted pink. Their hearts savagely gnawed at the rib cage like dog wanting to get at each other.

"Feliciano... I-"

POUND POUND POUND. Shooting up like a frightened cat, Ludwig nearly flung Feliciano on the floor. The knock on the door rattled the home, threatening to dismantle it further. Fear twisted Feliciano's expression as he looked up at Ludwig who was frozen in an aggressive stance, half standing up, on the couch. The tendons in his neck strained as he panted, his teeth showed as he stiffened his jaw. Finally, the primal fear retreated and Ludwig's eyes drained of dread. Hopping over the back of the couch he straightened his jacket before answering the door.

"A message for you sir," A man stood, sack over his shoulder full of mail and telegrams.

"Thank you," Taking the paper without looking at it he knew instantly where it came from. The slick, engraved envelope only the government used. His lungs shriveled, mind raced as he closed the door. Feliciano walked past him,

"I'm going to check on Leos," He said jogging up the stairs. Grunting in agreement, Ludwig's eyes were bonded to the piece of paper. Tearing an end off he whipped the message out. His eyes jumbled letters and words, blinking he had to read and reread sentences before his tired brain could compute their meaning. His hand began to tremble. Pacing around he read the letter yet again just be be sure he was correct. Feliciano trotted down the stairs,

"Ludwig, do we have anymore clothe? Leos is bleeding a bit," The words entered his mind slow, the entire universe seemed to be suspended. Finally he answered,

"Um, just use an old shirt of mine." Obediently, Feliciano retreated up the stairs and began his search. Ludwig let himself fall against the wall and slide to the floor with a thump.

"Ludwig, are you okay?" Feliciano called from upstairs.

_Should I speak of this? No. If I did, what good would it do? Best not to burden him with any __more horrors..._

"I'm fine," He called back. Shoving the letter in his pocket, he walked up the staircase. Feliciano was hovering over Leos, casually bandaging his arm.

"How is he?" Ludwig asked,

"He's good, just a light bleed from his arm... Is everything okay?" Feliciano saw a horror plaguing his friend's face.

"Hm? Yes, I just... I have to leave on some business soon... I am not looking forward to it," He said.

"Can you explain Leos is sick? That you simply can not do it?" Feliciano asked.

"...I would give a limb to be excused, but I know this is something I will be forced to do eventually..." Ludwig's voice turned cold and deep. His eyes down cast and face drained of color.

"What do you have to do?" He asked, Ludwig turned away.

_Is it worth saying? Such distress it would cause him... But others, others I know speak of it, not a bit of trouble came down upon there heads. I could tell him the truth. No, he would be disguised. Why do I even want to tell him?_

"Ludwig,"

"It's classified information... It would only trouble you to know anyway..."

...................................................

It was the silent boundary, right before the city, empty and ruined. The sun burned the sky red, tinting everything with a flush. The army lined to the east. Men, tanks, Calvary, and planes circled, awaiting orders. While order to be up and ready to attack sharply at dawn, Gilbert was no where they could see. Whispers and mumbles filled the air, the higher ranking men began to form. Suddenly there was silence. The bloody sun was shadowing something. Squinting, one of the higher officers ran back to his station

"The Russian's are coming!" He declared. For a moment panic took hold, trying to organize themselves. The men in the back began to part, and from the back rode Gilbert.

Still dressed as if going to war for his own kingdom, his breast shined with medals, a sword gleaming, a rifle on his saddle pack. The horse, stolen, was thick boned. A beast that had been bred for war fare. The red hues gleaming in his eyes frightened the men as he looked down on them. They pondered why he stubbornly refused to progress, it was what made it easy for Poland to fall. Bombs, land mines, grenades, he would be easy pickings. The cavalry as a unit had to hang in the wings as it was.

All the logic aside, Gilbert was solid in his reasons and took his place in from of the army. The enemy in the distance, either side waiting for one to move. From the sheath Gilbert drew his sword, his eyes narrowing with the sight of the Russians.

With a roar he cracked the flesh of his horse on the neck with the spare reins. Fear made the creature leap forth, the army following. The pounding of hundreds of boost, planes shooting ahead like hawks, tanks growling in pursuit. The horse drove itself, forward, the Russian army moved, quick to counter. Their men held their musket's out, ready to impale the animal. Driving it faster, Gilbert let the reins go and pulled something from his waist. Biting it then yanking the reins back, the horse dropped his haunches and slid in the mud on its hocks. The object was thrown an incredible distance, the momentum had help plunge it deep within the Russian troops. Moments later and explosion erupted. Take up his sward he pushed his horse forward again. While distracted Gilbert made the first cut into Russian flesh, the wet splintering of bone and muscle flung bits of gore unto his face. The German planes screamed by, leaving fire and explosions, gaping holes in the Russian troops. Finally the ground troops met a second later.

Shooting and close combat mingled. The initial were stabbed with the steel muskets, while others shot from the back. Blood sprayed in a hot fountain with each severed vein, every cryu cawling Gilbert's ear drums as he blindly hacked at the enemy's heads. The salty liquid blinded him when he cracked open a skull of man. Grabbing his eyes, he ripped at the horse's mouth, causing it to rear up. Seizing the opportunity the Russian's pungled their weapon's into the horse. Falling backwards, the weight of the beast crashed down on Gilbert, suffocating him for a moment as it pressed him into the blood and mud. Thrashing desperately, it's hooves struck out, smashing a near by skull. The Russian's bothered no more with the beast and went on attacking. Gilbert struggled to pull himself out from under the struggling animal. Rolling, he stood up and attacked the nearest man to him.

An explosion blew off to his right, looking to the west he saw the cavalry flanking the enemy, using the same tactic he had to get bombs deep within the battle. The planes had advanced as far as the city, circling above to come back around. Gilbert tackled a soldier to the ground, stealing his own weapon before shooting him with it. Stabbing the leg of a passing enemy, shooting at whatever he could. Finally abandoning his old ways, he ruthlessly killed anything nearest to him. A whistle from above caught his attention. Steel rain drops raced toward the earth. With a sharp turn, Gilbert ran. Pushing others out of his way, the whistle growing higher in pitch. The sound shredded his hearing and a heat seared his back, throwing him forward into the slug of blood, entrails and earth. The flames charred and consumed, burning his clothing. Rolling in the wetness in attempt to douse himself, he cried out.

Finally the explosion dissipated. Thrown far, he was no in the midst of battle, but others close were fighting. The pain was intolerable, as if someone sliced each and every nerve in his body with a flaming knife. Letting out a feeble cry, his face changed from the bitter, blood thirty killer he had become in mere minutes to that of a child. He gave some sobs, tears rolling down his face.

"haaahh, ah-hur-ts-s... Ludwig... Lu... uhhhAAAAHHHCCCHH!" He shrilled. Panting, he let the sounds of battle lull him. Trembling in the gore bath he closed his eyes.

* * *

_Did I kill Gilbert? Or didn't I?_

_With the risk of being slapped I will announce this is a "false" climax. The final Climax is coming._

_During a particular war, 7 aries of 7 countries fought against Prussia, Prussia won._

_For The battle the orchestral piece is Breath of Ran Gor by Two steps from Hell, find it on youtube if you wish to listen._

_Please R&R if you like ^^_


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer-** I do not own hetalia

**Note-** thank you for all the reviews ^^ I am planning to correct all the grammatical errors throughout the story soon ^^.

.................

At first it was only the shrills of death and anguish that caressed his senses. He wait for a light, a sign, something traditional of dying. But it was only screams. He couldn't feel where his body was, nor did he care.

_Should I follow the cries?_

_Why would anyone follow pain? _

_ Am I... In hell? No. _

_ Go back?_ His mind debated while he lingered in darkness. The stillness was frightening, and yet there was motion around him. Gilbert could sense it, somehow. Perhaps hear what he should see. Trying to move, his weightlessness confused him. The cries of agony grew louder.

_Am I move toward it? No! No! God in Heaven forgive me! Don't not send me to the bowls of Hell!_ He pleaded. A sudden crack, like that of smashing a skull, echoed in his brain. In a painful shock his sense slammed his mind. The taste of blood and earth, the cooked flesh on his back, the smell of rot and fire, the red and brown hues of the cesspool of war waste he had been suffocating in. Inhaling, his mind felt as if he were high, until the waste he breathed in stung his insides. Curling into a coughing fit he squealed. The movement of his back triggered a horrid pain, like the devil had raked his smoldering claws over his spine. Unsure whether to cry or cough he kicked like an infant, trying to expel the waste from his body.

He surrendered, letting the grime sit in his chest. Remembering where he was and what had happened, Gilbert let out a sarcastic laugh.

"You couldn't just let me die... No, you had to drag it out... Am I just that awesome?" Gilbert asked, his ruby eyes looking to the sky. Pressing his palms against the soggy earth he slowly lifted himself up. Shaking, he looked around. His loyal men hand charged forth, without guidance, relying only on each other. The city in the distance was smudged with smoke and fire. Looking around he found his sword, shining against the ashy battlefield. Pillaging a near by body's gun, he began to march toward the city. His legs being tugged at by the dirty hands of the earth, with every step his back strained. Hissing in pain with each step, his stubbornness prevailed.

A gift from God came down on him after a few yards of struggling. A horse, spooked and upset, barreled toward him, its eyes bulging out as if he had seen hell. Reaching out he grabbed the reins as it flew by, yanking it back. Fighting at first, the beast reared, desperate to distance itself from the city. Gilbert softly pleaded, standing his ground as it danced in fear around him. As it settled down he braced himself for the mount. With the stretch of his leg he cried out, baring the pain as he swiftly threw upself in the saddle. Leaning against it's neck, he panted a moment.

_I could run. They think I'm dead anyway. But where could I go? Surrounded by enemy nations and allies who would rat me out... That Russian bastard would win for sure and ravage my brother. No, I have to do this. So what if I die? I will die knowing I remained loyal to my brother and did not abandon him in his time of need. Did not abandon MY people. Fuck who ever rules us, we are individuals who do not adhere to the to false kings. I am the true King, my crown was stolen! And like a king I will fight until I see that Russian sprawled on the ground!_ Squeezing the horses sides he urged it on. Wresting it's head a bit, it seemed to beg Gilbert to stay back. A well trained body knew how to convince the beast otherwise, and though a small fit did in-sue between the horse and rider, Gilbert did push the animal into a gallop toward Stalingrad.

.............................

As he thundered toward the city, the colors of the German Army ran toward him. Scattered and disorganized, the fought their way out of the smoke. At first their panicked brains didn't register the rider coming toward them. Only after the fire's flames illuminated the bright colors of his uniform did they halt. Some looked in horror, others in amazement. One grabbed his radio and began to frantically shout into it.

"Gilbert is alive! He's risen from the dead!" A smirk tugged on his cheeks, the solider had no idea how true the statement was, how much he wish he hadn't been awakened. Sitting up a straight as he could to hide his injuries, he quickly surveyed the scene. The smoke was so dense a comrade or enemy could be in front of each others guns and not know it. The flames reached out with thick fists and trembled up at the heavens as if to declare war. Gilbert looked at a small unit a moment before speaking.

"What has happened?"

"The Russian army is huge! We can't see them, our planes are blinded! Most of the tanks are destroyed."

"What is the plan currently in action now?" Gilbert asked. A bullet shot past them and stuck the street.

"Fucking Survive!" The soldier shouted back.

"Hand me your radio," Gilbert demanded. No sooner than the moment the Radio touched his hands did another bullet rocket past his head, narrowly missing him. Clicking on the radio he struggled to maintain control of his frightened horse, pain, and the radio.

"This is Gilbert Beilschmidt! I want all German troops to fight back west! All aerial troops reload and circle the city until my command!" He waited for a response form either force, gurgling through the static a strain voice shouted.

"This is Aerial Force, we only have a hand full of bombs left, enough for maybe six planes. A snow storm is coming, although the city will be rained on, the outskirts will get harsh ice. I don't think we can reload and make it in time." Biting his lower lip, Prussia looked up at the black sky. _General Winter_ He grunted at the thought.

"Do it anyway, trust me. Make hits to the city and as far east as possible."

"Yes, sir,"

..............

It was working, drawing the Russian's closer to the west. The storm that was warned about was on the horizon, the planes not yet in sight. The popping sounds of gunfire and an orchestra of shrills echoed through the charred lands outside the city where Gilbert impatiently paced. The small unit had set up so that any if an enemy flushed from the barriers they could easily attack from long range. Illogical to go charging blindly into enemy territory, Gilbert anxiously waited for the sound of planes or the sigh of his army. By this time, the soldiers had noticed his burned clothing and bloody back. His hair curled and blackened from the explosion, stuck out in all directions.

The guns clicked up, staring into the hazy city. A shadow ran toward them, fighting his way through the smoke. Ready to shot, they waited for to see his alliance. The pale colors and dark helmet eased the men, an ally. Soon the smoldering city gave birth from it grey body more Germans, gunshots on their heels. Some northwest, some southwest, but numbers greatly reduced.

"The radio!" Gilbert demanded. Fumbling, on of the men tossed up a radio.

"Hold your positions on the edges! Kill any one the bastards you see. Northwest position men north in case of ambush. When you hear the planes take cover." Gilbert's orders were stern, but his focus was on the sky. The rolling clouds signified not just bad weather but Russia's best weapon. General Winter could take his planes right from the sky, freeze his men to death, cut off retreats, and destroy rations. The frigid wind warned him with a nip on his cheeks.

_Should I fall back now?_ He thought. Then, out of the symphony of war a new melody rung. He buzzing of planes, maneuvering and diving.

"All men fall back!" He shouted as he ran. The forest and natural cover was already blown to oblivion. Though he had the advantage of a mount it seemed as though the earth beneath him rolled the opposite way, getting him nowhere. A whistles, piercing in pitch, grew louder. A shadow flew overhead and a moment of pure silence canceled all noise. A warm surrounded Gilbert, a feeling of weightlessness. Only after the warm exploded into pain and he realized we was truly weightless did he panic. He and his horse were thrown, rolling into the ash and slamming into debris as they tangled. The beast smashed Gilbert's frame into the hard earth before rolling over on its side. The crunching and popping sounds vibrated through his body, trying to cry out, the air was knocked from his lungs. Rolling his eyes in the back of his head Gilbert stiffened and writhed, trying to breathe. As the war was fought around him, his concerns were only how to ease the pain of taking in oxygen. Coughing, the blood splattered from his nose and mouth. Resting his head in the ash he sighed.

_So, this is it, right? It's over? Never again shall I rise to be a King? Fine, just please say this is death. Please, no more..._ There was a quiet around him. Thinking it was his hearing fading he relaxed, welcoming death. Then he heard the footsteps of men, the mumbles of his soldiers.

"Beilschmidt! Where is he?!" He heard. Slowly the pain eased, he was able to shift to see where the voice was coming from. His blurry vision crossed, struggling to focus. Coming toward him was a group of blobs, no features, but their voices he knew were German.

"There is no enemy movement!" He heard,

_Did we win?_ He thought. Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him to his feet. While he knees wobbled he looked around, a strange stare in his eyes, like that of a dying animal rather than a dazed human. A primitive fear and shock. Jostling his head around, his comrades tried to snap him out of it.

"The horse took the brunt of the damage but get a medic to him!" A voice ordered. Gathering as much breath as he could he whispered,

"We won?" He asked, through the watery vision a face began to take features,

"No enemies detected sir! Your Strategy worked!" A smile cracked his frozen lips. Weakly he raised his fist up, forcing his unsteady legs to be upright.

"Fatherland!" He declared, his chest searing in pain as he shouted. The army chanted back,

"Fatherland!" A rush of adrenaline, his mind at ease, he did it. His country, family, and job were safe. Himmler's bet had back fired, Ludwig, Leos and Feliciano would be protected, his honor restored.

Popping, screaming, the ground flared up before Gilbert and the man to his right screamed and fell. A steel monster flew by, buzzing like a hornet as it swooped back up in the air. The army scattered, taking cover behind the shredded remains of their tanks and trucks. Gilbert, felt the ground getting closer, unable to support himself he could not correct his imbalance. The other soldier at his side attempted to grab hold of his commander. The young boy's face suddenly opened and disfigured, the lead bead flopping out the other side of his head. The blood splattered back unto Gilbert's face as his back made contact with the ground. Every hot little ash, corner of the delicate charred grounds, particle of dirt, and molecule of air inflicted a hot pain that surged up his spine and boiled his mind in an wave of adrenaline. Crying out, he laid on the battlefield. The war charging by, his men quickly dying, earth quaking in fear beneath the bombs that tore her flesh. The grey sky swirled, cold air jabbing his eyes, feeling as if his tears would freeze on his eyeballs. Shivering in pain and fear, unable to get up, he tried to calm himself. Taking deep breathes, he willed the pain and his situation away, denying his immanent fate. The world around him was quiet now, peaceful almost. The crackling of burning debris and popping gunfire occasionally slipped through his defenses, but Gilbert imaged otherwise. The popping was instead fat in a pan that grilled fine meat, the burning a warm fire that he huddled by with his family...

......................

It was such a pure state, a completion, as if Gilbert had found a missing part of himself. Or rather, another part of his brain that had been slumbering woke up. No pain, the world around him was bright, colors he had never seen, sounds he had never heard, beautiful this new world was. Anything he left behind held no meaning, if it meant staying in this state of bliss. Then the euphoric universe move, his body feeling as if he was plummeting. Reaching out he tried to grab unto the seamless world, to no avail. The haven slipped from his fingers and he fell away from it, now only a pale speck in the darkness he was engulfed by. Familiar corporeal noises jabbed at his ears, and then a loud pop.

The pain came back, his primal brain ordered his injured body to writhe, flailing and kicking like a downed stag. There were other surround him, grabbing his roughly and forcing his movements upward. His vocal cords struggled to produce wails high enough to express his pain. Their language was harsh, not registering at first, his brain was burning with too much input. Only after his eyes focused did he realize the danger he was in. The Russian soldiers were dragging him away, their anger evident in how tightly they held him. His bones felt as if they would break under their palms. Why they had not killed him already was a mystery until one of the waved into the distance.

From atop the hill he could see that ominous figure. The long trailing scarf and cane like pipe that he leaned against. Clenching up, he stuck his boot heels into the frozen ground, every pebble and snow clump sent a shock up his spine as he resisted. But he still progressed to Ivan, the group around him eager to escort him to his punishment.

They threw him on the ground, the soft snow gave way to the hard ground, scrapping up his face. He could feel Ivan over him, but remained face down in the dirt, waiting for a blow to the back of the skull or some other equality fatal hit. None came, instead his soft voice whispered to him.

"Get up please," Gilbert tried to ignore him, but once the Russian saw no effort was being made to obey he stepped on the smaller man's back. Instantly he shrieked, curling up.

"Get up," Ivan's voice was slightly more demanding but not harsh. Shivering, Gilbert steadied himself on his arms, but collapsed again. Frustrated, Ivan leaned over and grabbed his shirt. Pulling him up, he ignored his enemies desperate clawing at his fist. Setting the quivering man on his feet he looked over him like prey. Trying to stand his ground, Gilbert glared, intent on showing his pride was not completely gone. Extending his pipe, Ivan tapped the sword at Gilbert's side gently.

"I've waited a long time for this... Draw your weapon," Ivan ordered. Gilbert's jaw fell open, his breathing stopped for a moment. Was he serious? When no move was made to draw the sword the pipe came against the closest wound on the injured man.

"Take your sword from it's sheath," Gilbert's cries were almost too loud to hear his enemy. Hobbling in a circle, he tried to ease the pain that surged through his leg. His shaking hand wrapped around the sword's handle.

_One good stab, then I could take him dow-_ Gilbert looked around him. His own solider's crying out, some fighting against their captors, but quickly silenced. Like a pack of beasts the Russian army surrounded him, waiting for their leader to attack.

_ Even if I killed him, or so much as drew blood, they would kill me. What is the point?_ He thought. Taking stance, Ivan extended his pipe. Why was he being so gentlemanly? As if they were in a fencing fight? Rage curled up in his stomach, kicking his heart, making it tremble as he extended his wobbling sword. The two metals tapped gently, Ivan instantly jumped back, as if a spark lit under him.

The first attack was a warning, Gilbert flung his weapon around to back the Russian off. The heavy snow around him impeded his movements. Every bit of strength his legs could gather went into stepping back or to the side. Ivan saw his opportunity and charged, slamming the pipe down. Countering his attack, Gilbert struggled under the pressure. Ivan backed off, a soothing smile on his face. Circling his prey, his violet eyes moved over every part of the injured man's body. He charged again, this time swinging. Gilbert swung up, then down, trying to meet each swing. His balance began to fall back. With a swift blow to the stomach, Gilbert fell back on the ground. A flash of grey, a crunch, and all the men went quiet. Ivan pulled his pipe up, soaked with blood. A German soldier cried out hysterically.

Just as a grin tugged at Ivan's cheek, Gilbert twitched. His eye bleed, unrecognizable, just a blood blob on his face. His other eye focused on his enemy.

"Why don't you kill me?!" Gilbert shouted. Ivan struck his pipe into the ground, walking up unarmed to the downed man. Kneeling on one knee, he bent over so his lips barely graced the smaller man's ear.

"I can't kill you, that would be no fun."

......................

_I really do love Gilbert XD don't let this chapter fool you._

_Music-(find on youtube)  
_

_When Gilbert believes he has won: Heaven and Earth by Two Steps from Hell_

_Ivan and Gilbert's Fight: Petra by corner stone cues_

_*all music is orchestral*  
_

_R&R if you like please ^^_


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer**-I am sure you know, i don't own hetalia...

**Note-** Sorry it took so long, im not completely satisfied with this but I'm frustrated and lazy right now XD so here you go. Only one more chapter after this one, which will be quiet long and violent. Check out the poll on my profile and vote for the stories you wish to see next ^^. As usual historical and other notes will be at the bottom. Also, I may be revising this a story a bit, improve my rushed chapters and such. Until it's marked as "complete" expect some altercations ^^.

**oooooooooo**

The scent of leather had always been a favorite of Ludwig's. Enjoyed smelling like it, a clean, rustic smell that pleasure his nasal pallet. Once, he had enjoyed being surrounded by his vast array o f leather coats, belts, suspenders, boots, chaps, hats, gloves, and field gear. However, now the more times he wore the large leather coat, the more he came to despise it. It was a necessary part of his uniform in the winter, though it provided little warmth alone. The inside had a removable wool lining that kept his body heat close. The supple black leather firmly stopped all bitter air. Since his last trip with Gilbert to the camps he had gladly put away the coat, forgetting it's existence. Now it weighted heavy on his shoulders, boxing in his body, making him appear over menacing. He preferred to look proper, neat and organized, but he loathed the clothing he had to wear. It was false, such a misstatement about his true self, he hated lying about it as well which is why he got up as the crack of dawn to hide this sight from Feliciano.

Leaning over the bed he brushed the platinum locks of his son back and pressed his lips to his cold forehead. The soft sound of the kiss was the only thing disturbing the thick silence. Looking down on his boy, curled up and struggling to keep hold of life, squeezed his heart and lungs. His gaze then fell on his friend who was in a sound sleep. Reaching his gloved hand over, he barely touched the Italians cheek, tracing it down to his mouth. Standing back up straight he slipped by the door, avoiding opening it enough for it to creek. Gliding down the stairs as fast as he could, he went to put on the last of his uniform. The boots.

Unlike the other times, he was unable to stall. An escort had come to drive him to the camp, he had to be on time for this duty. His turn to witness. The letter had seared it's words into his brain, unable to forget the details of his assignment. After shredding the paper and burning it to avoid Feliciano discovering it, he had begun to fret over this day. With the Russians so close, was it worth even keeping these places running?

Ludwig could hear the car puttering down the washed out road. He took a deep breath, holding the air in his chest as he set his hand on the door knob.

"Ludwig?" His heart jumped and hit his gut, his vision began to spot at the sound of the softer man's voice.

"You should be in bed Feliciano," He said without turning, trying to sound stern and praying he would comply. He heard the Italian yawn, a pop from his bones as he stretched.

"Where are you going Ludwig?"

"I have some business to take care of... I'll be back," He answered, turning the knob.

"Ludwig!" He cried out, as if in agony. Turning around quickly, his fearful blue eyes shocked his friend, who looked on the verge of tears. "You are going to do it... Aren't you?" He whispered. Ludwig's muscles clenched, his diaphragm twisted, did he know?

"Feliciano..." It was all the taller man could get out of his mouth.

"Ludwig... Please don't," Feliciano squeaked, his head down, staring at the floor. Tears fell from his eyes, dripping unto the dull wood floor. Ludwig watched the wet spots appear for a moment, unable to solve or run from the situation.

"Ludwig, please. Please, Ludwig. Don't do it, don't do it. Run away, refuse, just anything but that. Don't you understand what you are doing to him? To everyone?"

"Do you realize what its doing to me?" Ludwig answered, Feliciano looked up, his eyes wide with apology, tears flowing steady down his face. He didn't need to question how Feliciano found out, it was unimportant at this point. Ludwig walked up to his friend, snaking his arms around the lither man and squeezing him. His jerky movement at first frightened Feliciano, but he relaxed. Ludwig's lips pecked each cheek then his forehead before nuzzling his face into his friends. This blue eyes staring directly into the amber pools that rippled with sorrow. Feliciano wanted to pull away. The eyes were truly a window to the mind, the beaten, tortured, starving soul of the country. In it's mix of blue hues, every person, every event, every emotion poured and fought for attention, begging.

Finally Ludwig pulled away as he heard the breaks of a car outside. Turning his back, he opened the door to the brisk air.

"Feliciano... Your the best friend I ever had... The most important, you are... My family, too me... Please, take care of Leos." He said. The door squeaked shut, the light sealed off, in the dark, Feliciano wiped the tears from his face.

oooooooooooo

His face was still, skin a creamy pale, the strong muscles in his jaw firm as he stared out the passing scenery. His blue eyes caressing the fields of farmers and livestock calmly existing among the grey mountains. The dim weather added to his stoney gaze, his nostrils flaring slightly with an angered sighed. The driver watched from his mirror, at first he had the desire to start a conversation, but after watching his passenger for some time he opted for quiet. After passing the boarder into what was once Poland, a piece of him felt tugged, weakly yanking him back into the boarders of him home. The sky was beginning to tint, the weather and destroyed roads had only prolonged his agonizing trip. Now, with the stormy cloud cover, he barely made out the signs warning him he was leaving his homeland. Even if this land was under his control, it felt like enemy soil.

He closed his eyes, the firm car seats became plush pillows in his imagination. He was still wrapped in bed, his muscles soft and relaxed. The room around him bright with sunlight. There was a scent of flowers from the decorative box that hung from the window. His lungs fulled with the fresh spring air as he stretched from his bed. With a hardy yawn and soothing scratch to his neck he sat up. The scurrying of little feet pounded toward his room. The door flung open, a blur of white leapt from the hallway and unto his bed.

"Papa!" His voice cheery and sweet, small arms tackling his chest. A small wrestling match insued, Leos curling up and attempting to pin his father down. To his surprised, the boy's strength had tipped his balance to the side. Playfully returning the gesture, he flipped his son over and rose to his knees. Leos did the same, like two sparing lions, their hands meeting. Ludwig stopped for a moment.

Leo's skin was not sickly or ashy, instead it was a bright peach color. His haunting eyes were deep and shiny. His arms were not made of bones, but developing muscle that shaped his young body. His shoulder's wide and chest far stronger, he resembled a finely bred young boy. A copy of himself as a lad, with different features. Even the awkward width of his collar bones and lanky legs he had yet to grow into. Leos' face unwrinkled from his playful threat and looked concerned.

"Papa?" He asked. Quickly sporting a smile Ludwig went back to lightly rough housing with his son.

"Ve, Ludwig! Leos! If you're going to train you need breakfast," Feliciano stood in the door. Tidy and dressed, his cheeks a vibrant glow. He was healthy. But more surprising was the fact he was up before Ludwig. His casual wear of a sleeveless shirt and work pants had garden stains on them. His body was back to a normal weight, just enough muscle to get his daily chores done. With a smile, Feliciano departed, Leos closely after. Tossing the sheets aside he walked into the hallway. He could hear the snap of food sizzling in a pan. His mouth watering at the though of a descent meal. He breathed into smell, but his lung spasm shut. His stomach turned over and flailed in his body. The horrid stench felt like it would singe the hairs from his noise and burn his throat. His eyes snapped open, he coughed into the handkerchief he tugged form his breast pocket.

The monotone reality banished his ideal world. A line of high tension fence tangled on itself stretched along side the car. He saw the driver peeping back at him from the mirror. A firm glare scared the man back into focusing on the straight road ahead. Ludwig looked into the back of the seat in front of him, tracing the wares of it. Anything to avoid looking out the window anymore.

With a slight jerk, the car stopped, waiting to be let into the main gate. Trying to hide the stress on his face, Ludwig turned into a statue, waiting for his driver to park. His ear's unwillingly picked up the sounds around him. The shouts of rage, heavy breathing, the clash of woods and other work materials. The odor was not as bad as the first time he came, but it seemed to have saturated every brick, clothe, and speck of dirt. Ludwig's flesh began to twitch, cracking his facade. He dared not open his mouth, he learned from the first time, the flavor of murder was unpleasant. With sealed lips he nodded a thank you to the driver when the car stopped in just inside the gate.

He moved his eyes quick enough to confuse his brain, trying to not comprehend the world around him and get into the nearest office. Anyone in his way scattered, parting a sea of prisoners that lead to the what appeared to be the main business building he quickly gathered himself. A train raced in, engine panting like a horse, flaring out steam and it screeched to a halt. Ludwig drove himself faster when the cargo doors slammed open. The door to the largest building was getting closer, the shiny knob was all his brain permitted his eyes to see, censoring the sighs to his left. His finger's wrapped around the handle and shoved the door open.

The inside was a strong contrast to the outside. This building was pleasantly decorated and comfortable. Soldiers relaxed and ate, some reading while others rushed to complete paper work. The windows were covered, the thick walls sealed off the sounds. Ludwig's tension was slightly eased, but his mind still whispered in the background, 'they are still there'. From a desk in the center, a man looked up and gestured for Ludwig to come forward.

"Who are you, sir?" He was a short man, older and gruff his demanding voice had little respect.

"Ludwig," He answered sternly as he brought identification from his pocket. The man took it, glossing it over with scrutinizing eyes. Handing it back to him, the man scribbled down his name in a book.

"Down the hall, to the left, last door on the right." He said. Ludwig hurried away, his new plan was get in and out as fast as he could.

_How did Gilbert bare to come here everyday collecting data? Seeing this without snapping. Gilbert. That battle was lost, but surely your cunning has you somewhere safe. _He stared at the door a moment.

The man who sat at the desk had looked too ordinary for Ludwig's liking. Everyone had a distinct face, a feature that seared into his mind except the bland looking individual who glared across the table. His dark hair combed over and worn eyes shadowed with the typical signs of aging.

"Are you aware of your assignment here today?" He asked. No formal introductions, straight to business.

"Yes," Ludwig said,

"What are you here for then?" Ludwig's brow crinkled at the man's sarcasm and acidic nature. Perhaps he was suitable to his job.

"Collect data in place of Gilbert Beilschimdt and take my turn to witness the execution of prisoners." The man smirked and sat back in his chair.

"Is that what you think of them? Prisoners?... A prisoner, is a man. We are not talking about men here. This is a termite. All the creatures we kill are pests. Certainly a wasp is not a prisoner when caught, hm? No, you have much to learn about this place. I feared this, considering your brother was doing all the noble work." Ludwig grit his teeth but remained cool.

"Someone has to be the bureaucrat." He answered,

"Indeed... But being as you aided in the developmental ideas of this place, I expected you be one of the first to show up to see the process... Instead you are one of the last. The enemy is so close, the war in dire states and what do I get? A report that someone has slipped through the cracks and ignored his duty. You can image my frustration. It's those who fail to do their work that are the reason the fatherland is struggling." With his true grudge revealed, Ludwig quickly came up with an apology, but was silence by a firm raised hand.

"To make up for your lack of effort... You will personally complete this day's quota... After all our killing sources are drained we will herd the survivors away as a precaution to the receding front."

A hot ball burned in Ludwig's stomach, his eyes crossed, thoughts stopped, his soul felt as if it had abandoned his body.

"Excuse me sir, but this is highly unorthodox,"

"YOUR lateness is highly unorthodox!"The man slammed a small can on the desk and shoved it toward Ludwig. The little black tin was neatly labeled, like any grocer can would be.

"You have little choice, do it like a good man or betray the fatherland in front of all your peers. Any good citizen does as he is told whether he understands or not."

_This man has my balls... There no denying it. Such a request can't be refused... But could I possibly? Is it actually doing good?_ Ludwig's eyes rested on the little can, his gloved hand wrapping around it and taking it into his lap.

"That is what I thought," The man chuckled.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Feliciano sat on the edge of the bed, a jar of honey in his hands, his head down as he swirled the sweet syrup on his finger. Waiting for it a majority of the honey to glide back into the jar, he didn't want to risk choking the boy. It had been hours of this slow ritual, Leos' eyes had never opened, nor had he moved any part of his body besides his throat and tongue to get the food in him. With a heavy heart, Italy looked at the child wasting away, doing what he could to help him hang on.

He parted the boy's limp lips, expecting to easily push pass his teeth to a weak tongue that begged for food. Instead, his jaw didn't move, falling slack and misaligned. When he worked his finger beyond the tiny teeth, his tongue too was motionless and slumped against the corner of his mouth. Leos' breathing was shallow, but his chest held in the air longer. Was he asleep? Italy pressed an ear to the small breast of the boy, his cheek molding to the sharp dips between his ribs. The fragile heart drummed a slow mournful beat, but at least it was beating.

"Meow... Merrrow?" The familiar bump of the cat rubbed up against Feliciano. It's dark fur glistening in the candle light. The overcast day hadn't helped caring for Leos, the cat was nothing but a self-sufficient shadow for the past days, lingering only long enough to rub against his owners and the child before slinking back to find meal in the forest. Feliciano's hand patted the hard skull of the cat, who lovingly rubbed against him. Stepping up on Leos' chest, the feline sniffed. Under the meager weight of the cat the child struggled to breathe and Italy quickly whisked the cat away.

"Keep him company... Just don't climb on him," Feliciano said as he set the animal back down. The furry shadow curled up in the space between Leos' arm and side, making a nest for himself. With a sigh Feliciano stood up and closed the lid on the jar of honey. The sweet scent elicited his own hunger, his gut turned and moaned against his bones. Bones that had not been so easily touched before. With one last look at the boy and the cat Feliciano slid from the room. His thoughts now on Gilbert. Not a word of his whereabouts, the battle lost, Ludwig and Feliciano both feared the worse. But until that report came in confirming his death there was hope, at least for Feliciano. He knew Gilbert's odd and ruthless tactics had never failed before. Rarely did he loose a spar, and if he did there was also a victorious rematch. The greatest armies of the world modeled after him, so Feliciano held fast to the idea that Gilbert's stubborn, relentless, determination would keep him alive.

Pulling the last bit of stale bread from the cupboard he coated it with some stew that had been kept warm over the fireplace. Grateful for every morsel, but still selfishly desired more.

_ How selfish indeed. There are people without stale bread and old stew, yet I greedily want more. Do I even deserve this? What contributions are worthy of such expensive items like food nowadays? Certainly this is a greater blessing than I deserve..._ Feliciano shocked himself. Never had such lowly thoughts entered his mind. True he had pondered his usefulness, but it never was considered a crime in his mind. Now, however, it seemed as though everyone was a tool, and he had seen what happened to the broken tools in the hospital. Not even dead, fully conscious, human beings stepped over like roaches and left to writhe and die like worms. He looked over to the radio. For some reason, despite it's miraculous survival, Ludwig had asked, perhaps begged, that Feliciano did not turn it on. Even if Feliciano didn't care much for the programing, it was background noise and comforting when alone. Feliciano saved what was left in the pot for dinner, picking up the weeks old paper and trying to find a few minutes peace, before returning to Leos.

ooooooooooooooo

The grey, edema flesh of the sky threatened to burst, groaning with pain above Ludwig as he made his way from the safety of the brick nest into the yard. Distant gunfire could be heard, the front had made a rapid pace backward toward home, why even bother with such unproductive tasks as killing these people? Would it not be better to use them in a more protective way? Send them well fed and trained to the front, make them loyal, a class of their own to be respected and if so, used by the country. This did not make logical sense to Ludwig anymore. What looked like a sly way of solving many problems for Germans had become an aching pain in his people's stomachs. What he intended on paper, was not so. His plans of a cheap labor, house them and feed them and make sure the healthy stay so, was disrespected. He gravely regretted all his reports, ideas, and how he was once joyful when praised by his boss. He tried to hold his head high, passing the living dead as they trembled in a herd toward their death. Dogs, taut at the end of their leash, snapped and paced along the densely packed block of people. For moment he wondered if his own dogs had been used in the same way. His gentle creatures trained to rip the skin from the bone of prisoners, track down hiding men and children, or mauling those who attempted a shot at escaping.

The long cement brick building was slightly submerged in the dull soil. The guards seemed oblivious to the world around them, wearing a mask of an uncaring vicious being, but he could see through some of them. Their eyes were the only crack in their facade. They were broken, all of the people, like plow horses meant to do the same tasks day in and out motivated by fear and need. Perhaps that was a the reason the men in the safety of the brick building self so satisfied. They didn't need to be snapped in half and have everything human taken from them.

The same robotic greeting gesture was preformed for Ludwig. Straight and firmly planted the men waited a moment for their superior to respond. He didn't, he only nodded, his blues eyes burning with a seething rage. The men spines coiled a bit, as if he was their father getting ready to scold them. Instead, it was Ludwig waiting for instruction. He tapped the tin can with his middle finger as he held it at his side.

"This way sir," A metal ladder bolted into the cement lead to the top of the semi sunk building. The clang and vibration of the steel as he stepped up it could be felt in his teeth.

The sky had darkened and now Feliciano was sitting by a warm flame that cackled at his miserable state of being. He re-read the same articles as before, his boredom manifesting into a compulsion to point out every flaw in the grains of paper. The storm had picked up again, rattling the fragile windows and roaring through the holes in a home. The fragile wooden beams moaned in agony as the air shoved at them. Looking up for a moment, Feliciano felt as if he was on ship, braving the rough seas in the hull.

"Meeerrow?" The patter of Ludwig's less than graceful cat thundered down the stairs and bounded to him. "Merroo, Merrrrroow, rrrrow," His unsteady vocalizations seemed odd. Leaning down to pat the animal, the cat began to paw at at his legs, nails out and raking his flesh.

"Ow, hey!" Feliciano gently pushed the cat aside, but the little beast refused to be ignored. He gave a horrid screech, as if Feliciano's touch had brought it pain. Its back hitched up and eyes glistening in the dim light. Feliciano recoiled,

"What?" The cat took off up stairs. Feliciano tossed the paper aside, running after it. What if it scratched Leos? Or had already? He skipped a few steps on the staircase, trying to keep the cat in sight. It raced into Ludwig room and sprung unto the bed, his fur blending into the darkness. Fumbling in the dark, the room light with a brilliant flash from heavens. The cat perched on the head board stared down at the boy. Feliciano flicked the oil lamp on, the glow illuminated the child in a soft light. Leaning close to Leos, Feliciano waited to hear his breath. The boy was still.

"Leos... Leos..." Feliciano pressed his hand against the boy's rib cage.

Boney arms shot up and clawed Feliciano's shirt. The pale frightened eyes opened wide, pleading, his mouth agape and unable to scream, although his chest and throat strained. Feliciano yelped, the cold bones that gripped him weakly yanked at him. He gather the child into his arms, supporting his head like an infant as he fell limp. The eerie clear irises rolled back into his skull and the boy's jaw fell open. Feliciano controlled his jumps down the stairs and rammed into the door.

Outside, the storm's frigid teeth bit Feliciano, the frozen rain puncturing through his warm flesh and chilling his bones. The darkness was thick, he stood a moment to take in the faint shadow's and guide himself to the car. His hand felt the icy handle and he jerked it open, defying the wind's assaults. He laid Leos in the back seat before hastily starting the car and speeding off. Every rock jolted the car, tossing it back and forth along the road. The mud slick path attempted to pull the vehicle away from his control, steering him into drainage ditches. Feliciano gripped the steering wheel with all his strength, fighting the forces of nature as he kept his eye on the dim lights of the town.

_Just around the bend... The bend... Just make it to the Bend and you can get help!_ His eyes searched for the curve in the unlit road, struggling to separate a reflection, a shade, anything. The water finally wrapped its arms around the tires, skidding to the side. Feliciano fought the motion, but was suddenly slammed from the side. It catapulted him back unto the street, and into the town. Braking, the car shrilled along the stones and came to stop in front of the post office.

Feliciano leapt from the car, pulling the child out with him. The patrons inside watched as he ran from his car into the building.

"Sir, what-"

"Help! You have to help him!" The building was full of soldiers, their wounds freshly bandaged. The radio spoke in a rapid alarming voice. The clerk was heavy set, his dark eye widened at the sight of the fragile boy.

"What happened?"

"He's been sick! I can't find his pulse! Where is the nearest army camp? A hospital! Anything!" Feliciano cried,

"That thing is as good as dead! Didn't you hear the news! The Russians are closing! Besides the military camp won't help that thing," One of the soldiers spat,

"This is Ludwig's Son! Before your government put him out of power he was in charge! If you ev-" Feliciano's outburst was cut off when the clerk grabbed his arm.

"If he's Ludwig's boy they will take him, we don't have much time, come on! You! Phone in to where Ludwig is!" The clerk ordered.

"He is at a camp! I don't remember which! I-" The clerk pulled Feliciano back outside in the rain. Leaving the shop unattended.

oooooooooooooooo

"What? He is busy-... Oh, yes... Yes, sir, I will notify him immediately!"

oooooooooooooooo

Ludwig could hear what trembled beneath his feet through the thick concrete. His hands trembled as he slid the small cover. The noises from inside the shell echoed up into his face. Moans and cries of a hideous nature pitches high enough to quiver his stomach. "Papa!" A desperate call from inside squealed above the rest. "Papa!" With unsteady hands he brought the can to the hole. The little crystals in the can tossing against each other from his shaking.

"Ludwig!" He halted, "Ludwig!" The hurried clang of heavy soles on the metal latter seemed to overpower the wail from below. He turned to see a solider, his lips moving but the only thing his ears could hear was his heart.

"Leos _thud thud _Northern Camp Hospital _thud thudthud thud _From previous _Thud _Of the Fuhrer _Thud_ Protect _Thud thud_ Dying _thud thudthud thud_ Once done _Thud _You must go." Ludwig's peripheral vision began to darken, a moment of blindness over came him. The message began to compute, his face twisted into a wild expression, flesh wrinkling into a snarl of some untamed animal.

"NEEEEIIIIIINNNNN!" With a roar he threw the can into the group of soldiers that guarded him. The can struck one above the eye who instant brought his hands up to cradle the gushing wound. The poison cause the others to back off, covering their mouths. Without thought, Ludwig leapt off the chamber's roof. His legs and body absorbing the impact and instantly he broke into a run. His hand brushing across the rock wall until it hit the metal lock to the chamber. With a swift break in stride he snapped the bolt up and continued running. The thud of bodies pouring from the chambers, the cries and frantic scattering. Gun fire cracked, bouncing from walls. Dogs galloped pass their culprit to attack a familiar target. The sound of thick boots thundered behind him, the gunfire growing closer as he saw the gates. Parked before him was car and driver who had brought him.

Hurtling himself into the car, he jerked the door open and threw the man out. Without closing the door he shifted gears and sped into the tall chain link fence. Twisting around the metal frame, the steel teeth raked across the black flesh of the car. Finally spitting the automotive from it's mouth, Ludwig twisted the wheel to regain control. The window to his side shattered, the glass sparkling magnificently as it scattered across the dashboard. The cracks of gunfire scattered, tings from lead meeting steal rattled through the steering wheel. The car whine and shot forward, speeding into the distance.

Ludwig's ear's pulsed, his heart strained too pump faster, hot blood rushing to his limbs and face as he stared at the road ahead of him. The open plain road narrowed into the forest. The trees arched back, groaning under the assault of the heavens. The fog thickened, blinding Ludwig momentarily until he found the lights. In the illumination of car, the fog twisted and turned into the face of prisoners, starving, mouths wide and skin wrinkled. Their boney fingers wrapping around the vehicle, grabbing unto the tires and curling up after being struck. Ludwig shivered, eyes watering. His lips trembled as his eyes shifted from foggy face to face.

_My son, my son, please be okay, don't die, please. I love you, my boy, oh God please have mercy. My people, my son, forgive me, please._ Ludwig's mind fled, retreating into the back of his skull and flashing pleasant memories. The first time he meet the meek little boy that clutched his brother's leg and didn't speak. The cries of an overly fearful Feliciano when he made a noose for his swing. The fetish he had for the swing, the comforting rocking motion that he watched from the house as his son drifted to sleep in nature. When he had returned home from the war ground, how his son ran to him from his safe nest and wept on his chest. Leos' endless appetite both at his boss's dinner and every day at home, the brilliance in his callous colored eyes when receiving a treat from an indulgent Feliciano. A brave boy, willing to bandage his own wounds to hide his shame of showing a weakness, despite it being apparent. Flashing though the images and reports, falsified documents to keep Leos' past secret to all except Gilbert, anger boiled in Ludwig stomach. How dare anyone have the right to injure his boy. How dare he injure his boy. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened.

The fog thinned and lights in the distance shined through the darkness. The small outline of the hospital, hastily set up in an industrial building, became clearer. The unrelenting rain spilled from the clouds, distorting his view. The area he knew, he knew he would have to cross a bridge directly in front, he knew that river gushed from the south and into ocean with a dramatic curve. The elevation of the hospital was high, up hundreds of feet of slick slope. Ramming the gas pedal to the floor, he would need every last bit of power the car had to get him over the bridge and up to the hospital. He saw the wooden railing come along side him, just a tad further.

Suddenly, Ludwig found himself sideways, the cars lights shining up. The road and hospital had disappeared. The wooden bridge shrilled under the remaining weight of the car and snapped. Weightless for a moment, Ludwig slammed his head against the side window on collision. Water rushed in from the shot out passenger side. The frigid liquid cut through his skin to the bone with a burn. The water rushed over his head, muffling his scream. Eyes blinded from the darkness his hands searched desperately for the handle.

Stuck. His lung began to burn as his store of air was used. Reaching into his coat he pulled the knife and pressed the point to the glass. A white web of cracks spread over the glass and burst open. The current quickly whisking Ludwig from the car. The wreckage of the bridge wrapped around his coat, keeping him down. Wrestling his way from the sleeve his head breached the surface.

After a breathe of air he began to yank his other arm from the coat. The destroyed car and bridge still groaning and ramming into each other. The unstable dam threatened to burst, the icy sharp sting of the water dragged across his flesh, trying to tear him away. Finally, his hand ripped from the leather coat and the river dragged him down, grinding his face against the mud and rocks before tossing him back up. His hands and feet fought to keep his head up. The lights from the hospital growing further and further away. The sky roared and brightened, forcing the trees down on their knees beneath the weight of the heavens.

"PLEASE!" He roared, his desperate cry silenced by the wind. His side and face crushed against a solid object. It's rough exterior and jabbing limbs clutched him from the current. His nails dug into its bark, feet bracing against the wood for footing. Pulling the last bit of energy from his arms, he got his chest on log. Heaving for a minute, he gathered himself and dragged his legs up. The rushing water beating against the side of his savior, foaming and reaching up to slap against his legs. Ludwig crawled along the wood, unto he felt the soppy soil engulf his fingers. Standing, on his first attempt to run he fell, the sensation in his legs gone. Immediately he righted himself, wobbling, and he ran until the pain broke through the temporarily loss of feeling. The lights of the hospital became closure through the tree. The air again, challenged him, blowing the rain into his eyes and shoving him back. Ludwig's weak legs began to loose the well trained form, now moving any direction to keep running forward. His arm shielding his face from the debris the heavens threw at him.

Feliciano yelp when the door to the building slammed open and from the darkness charge and mud covered beast. It grabbed unto him, it's frigid fingers painfully crushing his arms. Tears were already flowing from a marked stream down his face, when his eyes met the fearful blue one they closed.

"WHERE IS HE?" Ludwig demanded, Feliciano pushed Ludwig off in the right direction, running with him but quickly falling behind. Ludwig thundered down the corridors, doctors dodging out of his way and he muscled through the doors. His vision narrowed to only what was ahead, his heart shuttering the bones and muscles of his chest as he ran. In the background, Feliciano shouted directions through the maze, his brain only responded, not comprehending. A nurse flung open a door ahead, running to a closet. The doors swung in and out. Doctors gathered around the patient, his tiny back arching up. Instantly recognizing his son's pallid flesh Ludwig cried out for him. The boy's back convulsed again, his head slamming back against the gurney, his chest heaving and nose spraying a vibrant flash of crimson up before going limp. Ludwig was almost at the door when something yanked him back. He fought, a woman's voice demanding he go away. He fought her grip,

"Leos!"

"Get his heart going! Get it!"

"Stand back!"

"LEOS!"

"Sir! You need to go back to the waiting room!"

"LEOS,"

A high pitch whine followed by silence... Ludwig's lungs stopped, waiting, his ears twitched when a male voice spoke up.

"He has a heart beat,"

**oooooooooo**

Historically i really put the gas pedal to the floor and misplaced many troops. Russians main troops came from the east, while other allies mostly from the west and south. Mixtures of them in the northern and south areas in some circumstances. Buy this point Italy is completely over taken, which will be addressed in the next chapter.

Regarding the camps, many of the officers up and left, abandoning them at this point. Some death marches were made but often it was because the camps themselves needed to be destroyed. According to most eye witnesses, many soldiers did not wear masks to protect themselves from poison fumes. For argument's sake, I did not have the entrance of the chamber cut off from the outside by undressing room. I had a direct link, this is very rare, most did not work that way. I know of only 1 or 2 built like this and the original structure of them had been compromised during restoration. But just to make my life easier, this is the type I am talking about.

The music- Starvation by Two Steps From Hell. Its available on utube. Seriously, this is the most epic musical work ever. If you do not listen to it, your life has a void.

Confession: The original plot for this story was much different. In fact, it was only suppose to be half the length, was void of Gilbert and most battles, with heavy center on LudwigxFeliciano loving. I confess that I was going to kill off Leos! Yes, its true, I admit it, I was going to have a rather heart wrenching death to the poor boy. What saved him? 1. Starvation by Two steps from hell. and 2. Don't think it would've work if I killed the personification of German people... Don't think many people would've taken that one well, and the idea didn't sit well with me either. So Leos lived!... Or WILL HE? What horrible tortures will be in store for him now that Ivan is close! Is death better? Am I that evil?


	25. Chapter 25

_**Disclaimer**-Isn't it obvious by now i dont own Hetalia?_

_**Note**- thank you for all the wonderful reviews, this story even got excepted into a community! I've spotted some art work as well on DA. Here we are the last chapter and the end of this story. Thank you for baring with my grammar. I have gone back and edited details and worked out some kinks that were in earlier chapters, so if you ever re-read you may notice some differences. This is maybe the darkest chapter. To be honest I don't think I've finished a story in damn near ... 5 years XD so this is quiet unusual, I'm not sure if the ending is going to be any good or not because I've almost never written an ending. I tried to capture the sheer chaos of the end of the war. Enjoy and please R&R_

_**oooooooooooooooooooooooooo**  
_

The florescent lights cast dark shadows unto Ludwig's features as he paced the floor. It had taken quite an effort from the staff to restrain the man who's blood still was saturated with adrenaline. The mud and dirt had begun to crust on skin, his clothing clung to his frame and exaggerated every twist of his muscles. Feliciano watched, his eyes shaded with bags, hair frayed and knotted. His eyes traced Ludwig's shadow, rather than watch the man fret like a caged animal. The man who drove Feliciano sat next to him with his arms crossed and eyes down.

"Thank you," Feliciano whispered, the man just shook his head and leaned close to Feliciano.

"I should be thanking Ludwig... A while back he was in my brother's store and caught him hiding Jews. He could have had them all killed and investigate our family... We would've all been killed, we all hid someone. Catholics, Jews, gypsies, the gays... When my brother told me Ludwig let him go, I asked for a description and immediately knew it was Ludwig. I had seen the little boy and his father in the post office before, but I didn't know he was such an important man. He should be the one leading our nation. His heart is what Germany is, not this wretched leadership." The man said. Ludwig snorted and turned toward the stranger.

"First I would like to thank you for all the help you have given us. Second, ever since I was knocked from power and used like a whore I've been damaged so me leading the nation is not an option... But I will be blamed for everything... Don't worry." Ludwig breathed deep, trying to contain himself. "You should probably leave sir... I caused a lot of commotion at the camps, I am sure they will come for me." He said. The man stood up and walked toward Ludwig. He stood in front of his pacing track, forcing the taller man to look into his eyes.

"I am proud to be German, I will forever be proud... I am just not proud for this. I see you, I see what should have been... And then what was..." The man wiped his eyes, and sniffed. Ludwig unconsciously stepped back. Was he crying? The man quickly recomposed himself and gave a polite nod.

"You may want to gather your family and head deep into the country. Arm yourselves and hide..."

"What?"

"You heard me... That is an order civilian." Ludwig's voice was low, commanding. Feliciano sighed at his tone. It had been a long time since Ludwig was the one giving commands. It was almost comforting to hear his authoritative directions again. The man, without question, turned and left. The talons of the storm rushed in when the door opened. Nature itself clawing to get at Ludwig. The man pulled his coat over his head and shut the door behind him. The roar of the heavens died down and the sounds of machines and hurried feet once again were the music of their surroundings. Ludwig continued his self loathing pacing, his eyes bright with hate.

ooooooooooooooooo

A nurse approached them with towels and a sponge. Her path was aimed for Ludwig, but she detoured to Feliciano after getting a glimpse of his wild eyes.

"For you and your friend. There is wash room down the hall you can clean up in before you see the child, doctor's orders." She said,

"I can see him? He's okay?" Ludwig took only two large steps before invading the nurse's comfort zone. She stepped back, curling away.

"Yes, yes, the doctor will see you first, but please wash." She wrinkled her nose when she smelled the river on Ludwig. Handing the towels to Feliciano she scurried away. Without wasting a moment, Ludwig grabbed a towel and ran down the hall. Feliciano stood to follow, but dropped the sponges. His hands gathering them as he tried to keep up. The wash items became a balled mess by the time he caught up with Ludwig.

The washroom was perhaps the most obvious indication that the building was never intended to hospital use. While the rest was set up nice enough to give the illusion, this room looked more like a prison cell or where one would wash animal carcasses for butchering. The cement floor had a drain in the center. One light fixture in the ceiling that flickered wildly before providing a steady light. The walls were stained brown, damp from lack of ventilation. The smell of mold plaguing the room. Two hoses were attached to facets the sprung from the ground. The odd design made Feliciano uneasy, but Ludwig paid no mind to it and began to rid himself of his clothing. The pipes gurgled and hissed out air before spitting water out. Ludwig clean his clothing first, taking off everything but his boots. He worked his socks off one at a time and seemed to avoid touching the floor. Feliciano stood in awe, shocked at Ludwig's body.

Grant it, Feliciano had been the one who was always naked but it wasn't hard to catch a glimpse of Ludwig fresh from the shower, or trace the sweat drenched shirts around his body to get the sense of strength he held. But before him, was not a man with presence anymore. His back, once well muscled with browned skin from laboring in the garden was now broken out in bloody sores that trailed along his vertebra like markers on a map. Scratch marks from where he had ripped at them trailed along his sides. The once thick boned ribs that had been wrapped in muscle now stretched his taut flesh with every breath. His spine shook under his own weight as he squatted to wash his clothing. The massive muscles in his legs has begun to waste away and now were twitching in agony. Ludwig felt Feliciano's stare pressing against him.

"You best wash if you wish to see Leos," He said. Feliciano snapped from his trance and unbuttoned his shirt, hanging it on the door handle. His facet whined and groaned, spitting out some rusty water before running clear. He rinsed his boots off and washed the mud from his hair and face. Ludwig glanced over at his friend. The man's spine curled to get his head beneath the water, every bone stretching through the skin. His long torso was whittled to not much thicker than Ludwig's fist. His muscle long drained of proper nutrition, the bones in his arms were mere places for the remains to rest. The tendons rippling beneath his olive skin were obviously straining to do the simplest task of washing his face. Ludwig's chest felt heavy and he looked away. He splashed some water on his face, hiding his tears. Retrieving a towel he dried himself and wrapped it around his waist. He tossed the other to Feliciano, who had dragged half of it on the floor before gathering it up.

"Ludwig..." Feliciano whispered. His eyes drifted along his friend's body. Ludwig knew what Feliciano wanted to say. Through his damp bangs, the blond man returned the gesture of sorrow.

"Come, Leos needs us..."

The nurse took Ludwig's clothing and gave him some clothe pants and a shirt. He wrinkled face and dipped mouth made her appear like a prudent sort. She moved quickly and precisely, ever bit of paper and tags had a system. After gathering what she needed she handed it over to Ludwig.

"These are copies of the records. In case something happens to ours, we have been giving them out to the patients." She said. They knew what was going to happen, all of the staff. Ludwig headed back toward his chair in the corner, but just as his tired hind met the wooden seat a male voice called for him. With a groan he pulled himself back up. Feliciano shadowed him.

"Ludwig?"

"Yes Doctor," He answered. The doctor was older, his flesh spotted with marks of age and facial bones protruding. His back was in the early stages of curling.

"Follow me please," He asked. Ludwig's stomach began to boil with anxiety, every groan and click of a door was like gunfire to his ears. Feliciano was nearly stepping on his heels, refusing to look at anything but Ludwig's back. After a short trip down the hall, the doctor stopped and turned to look at the men.

"I must warn you, he is very fragile. He has lost some blood and looks very pale."

"What happened?" Ludwig asked the doctor but Feliciano responded

"He just grabbed unto me... That look in his eyes... Terror, as if he saw the devil. Then he went limp and I couldn't find a pulse or anything."

"You friend was right to rush him here... His heart rate was dangerously low. He seems to have massive internal bleeding. Blood is still leaking from his body in any way it can. After such massive hemorrhaging, his heart stopped. We have gotten him stable. We have blood going to him but I fear if the internal bleeding does not stop, he isn't going to survive. Not with his advanced starvation... I must ask, how did he get so thin?"

"He has a history of being very sick... But not like this," Ludwig remained composed, "After such a long time he got weaker and thinner..."

"I see... Well your friend made the right choice to bring him here... Most places now would turn him away... But..." The doctor cracked the door a bit, his eyes falling on his patient. "There is something strange about him. Perhaps if I can help him it will make up for the rest...hmpf, anyway, you may see him if you wish." He opened the door for them, his eyes cast to the floor.

Ludwig's pupils has drawn back into his skull. His lower lip tugged against his jaw muscles, fighting to quiver. He brought his clutched hands to his chest and walked gingerly on the floor as if he was going to sneak past a guard. Buried in a grave of blankets and hoses was his son. The blood that ran into him was connected in one arm while the other dripped clear fluids. A pump hissed and groaned, aiding his struggling lungs. His tiny nostrils flared, tiny specks of blood flecking from his breath. Some blood crusted from his lip to his chin, worn away from the elastic band that shifted with each labored breath. His eyes lay half open, unresponsive to light and glazed over. Ludwig stood frozen for a moment.

"Can... Is it ok if... I?" His tongue refused to work in his dry mouth.

"He can hear you, you can touch him just be delicate around the equipment... I'll leave you be for a moment..." The doctor said. Ludwig waited for the door to shut and the footsteps of the doctor to fade.

Feliciano watched as his friends shivering hands cupped his son's face. His side jerking with unsteady breath. A shallow, mournful, ululation cracked from the man's throat as bowed his head low. Brushing his strong cheek against his boy's, the cold and loose flesh of the child was like a block of ice against his face. The mountain of covers did little to warm him, the hollow sound of oxygen forcefully pumped into empty lungs whistled in Ludwig's ear. His mouth dried up, throat begging for moisture, his body pleaded for him break and cry. Ludwig refused, hold back demotions for fear Leos would hear.

"Shhhhhh," He soothed, "It's okay my son," His voice was barely a whisper, even Feliciano strained to hear. "My child, my baby, my son... shhhhhh, Papa's here... Papa is going to make everything better..." His body numb from pain, Ludwig rocked gently. Leos' eyebrows twitched slightly, but Ludwig did not see. His deep voice began to cried softly to a tune. Slightly startled by this Feliciano leaned in closer. For a moment, he thought Ludwig had finally crumbled. Softly signing a war march, perhaps the only songs he new by heart now, to his dying son was not what Feliciano had predicted of him. The Italian bowed his head and stared at the floor, unable to look upon the sight anyone longer.

Ludwig stomach dropped, fear crawled through his flesh and he was suddenly alert. Something was coming. He stayed still, listening to the world around him. He hear a clicking, steady but fast. Boots.

"Feliciano, in the closet."

"Wha-"

"In the closet now," Ludwig ordered. The small man slipped into the storage closet. Staying a quiet as he could, Feliciano situated himself among the objects. Now the sound that Ludwig heard Feliciano could hear. A group, the boots the same noise Ludwig's made when he would rush out the door for training. The door burst open, cracking against the wall. Ludwig's heart jump up against his ribs at the noise. Removing his hold on his son immediately moved to the end of the bed, his stance wide and aggressive.

The man who had scolded him from across the desk early that morn was flanked by a small number of soldiers baring guns. His face twisted to conceal his joy as he looked at a weak Ludwig. In the background a struggle could be heard, ordering the intruders out of the hospital. Ludwig stared him down, a mental battle ensued for a moment. Ludwig's brilliant eyes shimmering with hate and a bloodlust never seen before. The officer was the one to break contact first, looking at his men.

"You, Ludwig, caused a tremendous uproar... Committed an act of treason against your people..." He began to walk as he rattled out Ludwig's offenses. "Abandoned your duties, destroyed government property, stole a car, assault, and yet..." He stopped to fold his arms across his chest and stared him down again. "Here we are, in a worse predicament then before..." He turned his back and walked to side of a young solider.

"Kill him," He ordered. The young man raised his gun, the barrel trembling as it aimed for Ludwig's chest. His brow sweating and skin drained of color. Ludwig froze, surrounded with no escape he surrendered to what primitive instinct his brain commanded. His chest rumbled with a threatening sound, hands curling and ready to defend. The young man's finger twitched on the trigger.

"No," He whispered. The gun lowered to the floor, "I can't sir..." The officer's face went red, his fist came to the side of his insubordinate man's head.

"You will do your duty or be killed yourself!"

"No!" He shouted back. With the butt of his gun he slammed his superior in face. He fell back and the young man wasted no time in pinning him to the floor and slamming his skull against the ground. The other soldiers stepped back, unwilling to help their commander. Blood splattered with every crack, the young man screamed insanity as he attacked. Ludwig's mind finally switched on again, he ran to the solider and began to pull him off.

"Calm down!" He ordered, the man would not hear him. His fingers reached desperately to rip at the face of the officer. His voice high and stressed, cracking with his screams to let him go. The Officer was silent and still. Ludwig managed to pull the man back far enough to settle him. The stranger he restrained in his arms was silent for a moment before realizing what he had done. Shivering on Ludwig he feel to his knees and began to cry.

"Take his body out of here and have someone clean this up..." Ludwig ordered. Then men easily complied with him, dragging their once leader out with faces half curled in delight. Ludwig urged the weeping man to follow his peers with a gentle push.

ooooooooooooooooooo

After the fight Feliciano slipped from his closet after everyone had left and took his place my Ludwig's side and Leos' bed. Ludwig did not let go of his son, whether it was brushing his fair hair or soothingly rubbing his paper thin flesh, not a second without contact. After some time of quietness, Feliciano rested his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Ludwig... What can we do?" The sounds of gunfire and warfare were drawing close. The setting sun was inflamed and bleeding into the sky, tinting the room. Ludwig's face was in shadows, obscuring his eyes. In the far corner of the room were the soldiers, huddled around a small radio that was tuned into an English channel. The static muffled speak was full of enthusiasm. Feliciano's former boss had been butchered, his body displayed for all to see as they paraded it in the Italian square where he was executed. Word had spread that the Russians, Americans, and British were all within Germany, in Berlin, hunting. The government stopped communications, not a word from Ludwig's boss. Some of his superiors had already been found dead or captured.

_Is anyone in control anymore?_ Ludwig though, _Yes... Me..._ He opened his sealed eyes. His fragile child in front him, struggling to breath. Each cough was full of blood, lungs gurgling with fluids. He looked to Feliciano, the smaller man looked distressed but looked up to him with eager and bright eyes. For a moment, he had been completely at a loss for what his expression meant.

_He has hope... He believes in me still..._ Ludwig faced forward and stood up.

"Feliciano..." His voice was deep again, "Grab a sheet and a crutch from the closet." His command was firm, like he was in training again. Feliciano did as he was told, taking the top, blood splattered, sheet of Leos' and then diving into the closet. Ludwig took one last look at his son, before sighing deep, as if bracing himself for something.

_This needs to end..._ He thought. Suddenly he leaned over his son and ripped the mask from his face. The oxygen hissing into the room instead of the child. At first, Leos' body shivered in protest, heaving without it. His father then began to disconnect the blood, the fluids, any tube that was violating his son's veins. Leos showed the first bit of life when he weakly squeaked in pain as the needles were yanked from him. Feliciano was planted in place, horrified. The soldiers too were drawn by the commotion and watched as Ludwig severed the life lines to his son. With one large sweep, Ludwig had Leos cradled in his arm and began to exit. The boy's limp body had little weight to it and his limbs flopped with each of his father's long strides. Feliciano followed with the sheet and crutch.

The doctor's face dropped when Ludwig came around the corner. Before he could open his lips, Ludwig's eyes silenced him. He backed down and let Ludwig pass, the soldiers naturally in formation behind him.

Outside the air tasted bitter with ash, blood and metal. The sun was just rising, the sky flashing a brilliant hue across the land. The storms had pasted and in their wake was a ravaged earth. The hand of God had scorched trees and earth alike. The river hemorrhaged debris into the banks. The sounds of heavy machines and gunfire were close enough for Ludwig to worry abut getting struck with a stray bullet. He looked to the north, standing as tall as he could muster and began to walk to once scenic edges that view the beaches. As Feliciano followed he finally realized what was about to take place. His nimble fingers quickly cinched a knot in the stained blanket, attaching it to the crutch.

Ludwig walked closer and closer to the edge, the soldiers had stopped a few meters, but their leader did not halt. Feliciano ventured a bit further until he too felt too close for comfort.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano cried out, the blond's boots stopped right on the edge of the earth, stray pebbles plummeted to the shores below. For a moment, Ludwig's mind was proud they had built in such a strategic location. Feliciano stiffened, watching his friend remain still for a moment. A harsh chopping sound echoed around. Instantly the soldiers brought their guns up. From the cliffs soared vertically a steal mass.

The helicopter stared down Ludwig, a shine blinding him from one of the doors and silhouette standing against the bright sky. America glared down at him, hanging precariously from the machine, as if he would lunge from it to grab the other nation. Looking into the horizon flocks of planes gathered and made their way toward the shores. From the sea rose whales of painted metal, his own creations now birthing dozens of allied troops. Ships glided along to meet them, arming the coast. The troop treading the water until reaching land and charged forth as if there was an enemy in front of them. Ludwig squeezed his son and looked at Feliciano. His eyes giving the command. With a broad swipe of the arms, Feliciano fought the winds of the helicopter to bring the makeshift flag into the sky. The soldiers behind dropped their weapons and held their hands up. Ludwig felt a twitch in his arms, the boy began to stir. His face twisting in agony from a noise. His tiny fingers clawed at his father's chest, dragging himself closer to the warm.

The dirt and rocks flung into the air and pelted against their skin as the helicopter lowered. Ludwig tilted Leos in toward his chest to guard him from the debris. The force from the wind was whipping poorly wrapped bandages off the child. The one that had been covering his head was so damp from blood it had no traction and was the first to whisk away. The wound looked as if the skin just burst open through his temple. Like a gun shot. It had begun to crust over with scab but began bleeding again from being disturbed. Ludwig felt the shadow of the allied machine over him. He refused to look up again and instead stayed glued to his writhing son.

Finally, his eyes opened, his haunting irises bright with agony. His face however, calmed at the sight of Ludwig.

"Papa..." Though his meek voice was unheard over the roar of chopping blades, his lips and smile could be read. Ludwig held the tiny boy to his chest and rested his head against Leos'.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano shouted and the blond felt someone latch unto his shirt and yank him back. He took the blow of the fall but crushed Leos against himself so tight the child squeal in pain. The helicopter slammed down where he had been standing. Feliciano still had his friend's shirt between his fingers.

Though nearly crushing Ludwig, the pilot had no sympathy and casually strolled out.

"England..." Ludwig muttered. He looked up to Feliciano. His face was surprisingly firm, fear was in his eyes but the smaller man seemed to be firmly planted by his friend's side. England's green eyes boiled with hate as he looked down at his enemy.

"England,"

"Shut your mouth," He ordered, "Your our little problem child now aren't you?" His boot slammed down on Ludwig's foot. The German's face did not so much as twitch as the weight of the other man stressed his bones. England's eyes fell unto the tiny child. This Ludwig snarled and turned his boy away.

"That is the child is it not?... The people?..." England waited for a response, but Ludwig's lips were tightly pressed against each other.

"Take the child," England commanded. A group of allied troops gathered around him,

"No!" Ludwig stood but they grabbed unto him. Feliciano wrestled between them, pleading for them to stop. One of the men raised their guns and a crack echoed. Feliciano froze for a moment, checking himself for pain. The other troops as well were caught off guard by their comrades actions. In the mayhem Ludwig twisted free and began to run. His body was nearly concealed by the shadow's of the forests when he saw a shadow. Skidding to a halt he backed up liked a frightened horse would, his head high and eyes wide. Leos was quivering his arms, tiny limbs wrapped around his father and dug into his back. From the blond's side was a dark stain that stretched out and run down his legs. Ludwig began to limp to the side, as the shadows emerged. A shimmering metallic gleam contrasted the dark forest. Ludwig knew instantly who it was and closed his eyes.

The slow, heel to toe foot steps were sharp. He would almost hear his lips coil up into a smirk.

"My my running away Germany?" That joyous tone made Ludwig gut knot itself and roll into the lowest part of his body. "Eh? You look like a little frightened deer Germany! What are you so scared of? You know, if you do what we say it will just make your life easier. Really a much more civil solution..." Ludwig opened his eyes, vision blurred with tears. Ivan stood calmly, resting on his pipe, a smile from cheek to cheek. His men behind him seemed to be at work already setting up a place to rest. Surrounded on all sides with the hospital behind him, Ludwig tried to figure an escape of some sort. His mind hatched a wild fantasy of fighting his way through, rallying the last soldiers of Germany and leading a victorious battle against the Allies.

But as beautiful as his mind made it seem, his logic came back to him. What choices did he have? Resist and get injured? Killed? And Leos taken anyway? Or hand him over? What would his pride allow him to do? Neither option was right. His head turned from each side, Russian to English and then back. Feliciano was still stiff with fear, watching for Ludwig's response.

"You... Don't hurt him." He ordered to England,

"You are in no position to make any requests Germany." England responded, "Now step down." His voice was enraged, the cuts and bruises on the small man's faces proved his own suffering. Ludwig knelt, the pain in his side rushed up. He hissed in agony as he set his son on the ground. His large hands enfolding the bony digits of the child. He hesitated for a moment.

"I love you... I love you so much..."

"Papa, please," Leos squeaked when he felt his hand exposed to the bitter air.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ludwig paced his cage like a distraught lion, his cell guarded by one Russian who watched amusingly as he panicked. Feliciano was sitting on bench, head in his lap with hands over his ears. The hospital had been quickly taken over and within minutes they wielded bars up to make a makeshift prison. Only they, however, occupied it. The hospital was alive with screams and the sound of glass smashing. Ludwig's aggressive wandering spontaneously exploded and he slammed his fist against the bars. The structure rattled beneath his hands, jousting Feliciano from his seat. The blond's chest rumbled with an animalistic growl as he continued his nervous march around his enclosure.

_He's lost it..._Feliciano thought. He rested his head back down, hoping his friend would calm down. Blood from the bullet wound was seeping down his legs and making a brown, stained, trail where he walked. With every lashing, more blood came from the German's side. No one had seemed to mind the prisoner bleeding, they had not even made an attempt to show concern.

A group of soldiers gathered around the guard, wide smiles spreading on their faces at the sight of a distressed Ludwig.

"We are going to do it now, while Ivan is meeting with the others." One said,

"Oh? But I'm guarding, can't it wait? I want to see it." The guard responded,

"Where is he going to go? Come on, I'm sure you'd leave anyway when you hear his lovely screams." The soldier looked directly at Ludwig who snorted back at him. "For such a small thing... He screams loud." Ludwig went still, his already pale face chilled to white usually only seen on a corpse. The soldier took out his knife, flicking it open and waving it to show off it's shine.

"I want my part of repentance, my piece of satisfaction, my pound of flesh..." He hissed. Ludwig could feel the hot breath of his tormentor on his face. His brain shorted, a moment of absolute silence was around him. The image of the Russians turning their back and leaving them narrowed into a tunnel. All he could see was the mocking man laughing with his friends. His brain focused only on searing the man's features into his memory. The door slammed shut to the corridor. The electricity was fading on and off, the taste of fire and death heavy in the air. Still the pleas of women and cries of men were bursting occasionally, only to be silenced midway. Feliciano sat up,

"Ludwig I-"

"UURRRAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Ludwig back curled and he slammed his body against the hastily wielded bars. His thick fingers latching onto the metal and wrenching his wrists to pull it. His body shaking with power and flesh reddening from his roars. Beneath his heated grasp the metal groaned and bent away from his calloused claws. Feliciano watched, in awe, as the cell bent to his will. Noises a man would not make escaped his throat as he pushed his body's limit.

The cage now had an opening and, like a loose bull, Ludwig charged through it and down the corridor. Feliciano sprang up and slipped through the bars. Ludwig already slammed his body up against the doors to shove them open. Feliciano pursued, questioning every shadow around him. Afraid to cry out and get captured he tried his best to keep up with his friend.

The screams were a blood curling, bone fracturing cry of such agony that the men's hearts seized for a moment. Ludwig heard a snap in the back of his skull, like he popped a joint. The cry continued, not dulling, but growing in volume and desperation. The blond tracked it, spinning around corners with no regard to who might be just beyond them. All pain, from the bullet, exhaustion, anything was gone. A fierce energy infused his ravaged body. Finally the screams lost their echo, he was right near them, one last corner. Around him the unfinished parts of the hospital were soaked with liquid and vandalized with bullet holes.

"Leos!" He called. Rough hands grabbed him from behind and restrained him. His son being dragged along to the center of the floor. Leos screamed and jerked in the Russian soldiers arms. His teeth coming down to bite his jacket. Legs kicking fiercely against his capture's. With as much effort has he attacked, it had no effect and the man pinned him to the frozen concrete. Ludwig slammed his elbow into the soldier that restrained him, but there it didn't seem to phase him. Feliciano retaliated as well, fighting to get to Ludwig, but his light body was quickly subdued with the soles of Russian soldiers. While his face was pressed against the floor, Feliciano watched as his friend and Leos were dragged further from each other. Ludwig 's arms wrenched behind his back and head tilted up to watch his screaming child struggle in the grasp of a stranger.

Leos fought, even while on the ground. His shirt was torn from his body. The bones that stretched the pallid skin were a slightly shock to the Russians, but then continued their job. Ludwig's eyes strained to the corners of his vision to see one Russian over the fire. The man stood holding an iron bar into the fire, the metal bright and aglow with heat.

"Papa!" Leos called. The Russian with the metal came back into Ludwig's field of view, the hot bar in his hands. He turned so he could see his allies and Ludwig.

"A gift, memorabilia, for you Germany..." He pointed the hot iron toward Ludwig. The red smoldering designed seared it's brightness into his corneas. The symbol of his now falling government.

"Keep his ribs up, I want this to saturate his bones." The Russian ordered. The men twisted the child so his right side was up and arched. With little reaction, the man slammed the iron into the boy's ribs.

The shrill from the child was something a damned soul would cry as it boiled in a hellish lake of lead. The smoke plumed up, twisting into the horrid images of skeletal souls that fled to the heavens. The boy writhed, the tendons in his neck strained as he desperately pleaded incoherently. Ludwig's entire vision blackened for a moment, the pain instantly gone. The scent of blistering, burning, meat and flesh stained the sense of all present. As Ludwig's brain reconnected, all it comprehended was the sight of _his_ boy, _his_ people, tortured. His back rose and he threw the Russian on his back off. Flinging each man on his arms to the side he charged blindly. His hands curling into claws he ripped at the face of a soldier who tried to block The Brander. Grasping his eyes the man fell, screaming. The Brander took one last look at the blackened, simmering wound and tore the branding iron it from the child. Using the hot metal as a shield he thrust the brand into Ludwig. The heat burned through his clothing. Like the devil's tongue, it licked him with a acidic burn. He did not cry in pain, but in fury.

He swung his fist like a club and knocked the Brander's skull. Blood sprayed from the shattered head, shimmering in the shorting lights a morbid rainbow. Tackling the man, Ludwig's brain erupted. His nails sheared the flesh and fat from the man's face, hard hands crush and cracking the bones beneath him. The man struggled, rising his arms, but Ludwig caught hold of one and snapped it back like one would do to a calf shank. He picked up the pleading Russians face and slammed it into the floor. The wail from the men went unaided by his comrades, who had scattered like fleas. Ludwig felt the satisfying crunch of bones beneath him and smiled. Hot blood splattered up unto his face and clothing and he pulled the man up by the collar and slammed his head back down. A weak arm came around his shoulder and tried to yank him back.

"Ludwig! Ludwig stop!" It cried, he would no obey. He wanted to see this man's entrails skew about the floor, how dare he, how dare he harm his child. In Ludwig's mind, every person who had ever hurt Leos was now embodied in this man. His mother, his rapers, his abusers, the Russians, his boss, himself, anyone. His blows became harder, his knuckles started to his bone fragments and joints instead of muscle. Still the weak arms pulled at him, begging.

"Ludwig look at LEOS!" The statement snapped Ludwig's mind into the present. The face he was ripping apart was nearly destroyed, but still shivering in anguish. Feliciano was on his back, crying into his shoulder while his nails dug into his chest. He set the man's head back down, gently. He turned to see his son on the floor, curled into a ball. He stood, letting Feliciano slide off his back, and walked to Leos. Knelling by his child, it seemed as though he had again passed out. The smoke still rising from the brand mark, the scent heavy around him of the charred skin. Ludwig felt his lips quiver as he cupped the boy's face, the blood of the Russian smearing on his skin. Ludwig's vision blurred, tears dripping onto Leo's face, washing away the blood in pink streams down his cheeks and neck. The child looked at peace, asleep, despite is body being burned to the bones.

Ludwig picked Leos up, cradling him like an infant. As he began to walk, so did Feliciano, where too, the Italian did not know. As if my some sixth sense, Ludwig guided himself through the maze of the hospital at a slow pace. The pleas of women, the nurses and patients rang rough the halls, a symphony of begging and death cries. Ludwig knew what each pitch the victim plead meant. Rape, torture, death. A shadow ahead of them snaked around the silhouette of a woman and soon a new singer in the choir joined as they disappeared into a closet. Ludwig's head fell back, his heart felt as it a billion little paper cuts can been sliced into it and with each beat they split open further.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Outside the sun was cloaked with a thick sheet of black clouds. Smoke from the burning fatherland, the wind howling in pain as the flesh of the earth was scorched. The scent of fire was familiar by now, overpowering all other smells the permeated through the area. The air felt thick and sticky, despite the frigid temperature. With every heavy breathe the taste of ash jabbed at Ludwig's tongue. The Allies had set up a more luxurious camp for the elite. England, America, and Russia were all situated by a fire with a map in front of them.

Russia was the first to notice, his eyes brightly shone in the flicker of the flames. His partners then too looked. England winced in shock, the American rising to his feet ready to fend the German off. Feliciano raised his hands gently, reassuring them. Ludwig's arms felt as if they were encased in steel, trembling as they straightened his skeletal son for them to see the injury. His lips could not move nor throat make any noise. The gloss in his eyes and lack of expression showed his fatigue, his weakness. England approached, knowing Ludwig was no threat.

The Englishman let a gasp escape his mouth when his eyes set upon the injury. With the last bit up strength Ludwig raised his eyebrows up with a desperate look.

"The Russians... Look at what they did to my child..." Ludwig whispered and brought Leos back to his chest. Bouncing him lightly like an infant, he made soothing noises to the limp body in his arms. The American ordered for a nurse, while England stared down Russia, who's face was absent from a smirk.

"The deal was not to harm him. Negotiating is off, you have Gilbert and that is enough..." England rolled the map up, shoving it inside his briefcase and wrinkling it horribly. The bland look on Russia's face twisted down into a predatory stare.

"Bring me the worms responsible for ruining my chances of getting more land! NOW!" Russia's animalistic growl made his men flinch and they hurried away.

"Gil... Gilbert? You have Gilbert? He is alive?" Ludwig's voice was shaking, his legs trembling. Feliciano gently pulled his friend to the ground to have him sit, rubbing his back in an attempt to sooth him.

"You speak as if that is better than him being dead." Russia hissed. Ludwig's cheeks stung with his saline tears, his throat choking on his sobs as he tried to shove them back into his chest. He let himself fall into the mud, thrashing his head and legs. His heart boiled in a painful ache that shot up and down his spine. Russia left the broken man in the mud. Feliciano quickly switched sides so he could see Ludwigs face, and knelt in the soggy earth. His hands brushing the mud from his white skin, guarding his delicate blue eyes as they leaked.

"People will not say, the Nazi's killed us, the Nazi's caused the war... No, they will say the Germans did and brand our people's flesh with that in stigma for eternity... Even though we were a victims of the same fate in the end..." Ludwig closed his eyes. Feliciano wrapped himself around his companion, digging his nails into the German's back. The heavens scolded them with menacing roars they laid in the softened, brown, wounds of the earth.

**ooooooooooooooooooooooo**

**...**

_**thank you for sticking with me through this story. The sequel, Atrophy, will deal with very little history and will be gerita, prussia and Leos will be more of a character instead of a symbol.**_

_**The opinions in the work are not necessarily my own, but something I put into the characters. Everyone has their opinion about the war, about the things that happen.**_

_**Ludwig's last words definition: yes people do blame the nazi's but crack open a book, it will say Germans far more than Nazi. This pisses me off to. no. end. Certain country's books do not do this. I will get into the way the German's were brutalized after the war in Atrophy as well as some little know ways Victims of the Nazi's camps were (this includes jews, POWs, etc.), since its a tad more relevant there than here. For now just remember that line because it's dire in Atrophy.  
**_

_**Remember to vote on the poll which story after Atrophy I should work on. It's very close so come vote!:D  
**_

_**The Music for this chapter was: **_

_**Merchant Prince-two steps from hell.**_

**Entire Musical credits:**

Great spirits TSFH- Leo, Ludwig and Feliciano go and play soccer and eat in the park

Road to Revelation TSFH - 2nd battle/3rd battle

Starvation TSFH- when Leos is sick and germany leaves camp, climax

Merchant Prince TSFH – Ludwig picking up Leos and then surrendering

River of tears TSFH – Leos' death camp dream

Lament for the Lonely TSFH- Germany bidding farewell Leos is too sick, Ludwig's goodbye to Feliciano.

A hero's return TSFH – Prussia and Germany visit the death and work camp

God of Lightening TSFH – The bombing on Germany.

Heaven and Hell TSFH- Gilbert's false victory

Petra Corner Stone Cues – Gilbert vs. Ivan

Breath of Ran Gor-Prussia charging into battle against Russia

**_I can not thank you guys enough. Seriously, Danke _  
**


	26. Sequel

**Notice-** Just so the people who have been following Child of Germany know, Atrophy the sequel is now up. Eins, which was originally going to be the sequel, will not be. Here is the link to the sequel Atrophy:

fanfiction .net/s/6190248/1/Atrophy

This is a GERITA fic and will have heavy yaoi in it, serious abuse, rape, sensitive issues, post war life, etc.


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